


All Things Beautiful

by hopelesslydevoted



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4313421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelesslydevoted/pseuds/hopelesslydevoted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren is one of the leading male models in the country. Chris is a rising star working as a professional photographer in fashion industry. When both get attached to a fashion ad campaign, the sparks fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The camera brought Chris out of his shell, at least in the moments when he could get lost looking through the lens. Later, he learned that professional photographer is always alone in a way, keeping distance from others, but still largely in control of the story that is being told. Chris had not worked with the model previously, but he had heard, and read, quite enough of things in order to form an opinion about him. "I think we haven't met before." Darren's voice is beautiful and light, but Chris almost huffs hearing the words.

Chris was thirteen when he got his first camera as a Christmas present from his parents. And after only a day or two, he already knew what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. The camera quickly became a part of him, an extension of his being. Most importantly, it brought him out of his shell, at least in the moments when he could get lost looking through the lens.

With his camera, Chris found a way to relate to other people. For him, being a photographer was never about seeking solitude. It simply allowed him to watch other people without really participating. In that role, Chris felt, for the first time, comfortable around other people. Later, he learned that professional photographer is always alone in a way, keeping distance from others, but still largely in control of the story that is being told. 

In Chris' eyes, the models are complete opposite to photographers, because they interact with everything, the clothes they wear, the props and other models in the scene, the light cast upon them and even the crew behind the shots. In the best photo shoots, Chris could just be the observer trying to capture magic of the interaction between the elements in a single shot. Of course, most of the time things aren't that easy. Most of the time, Chris needs to tell the models what he wants from them. Sometimes over and over again.

Chris quickly learned to avoid working with the pretty ones. While he enjoyed beauty just as much as anyone, working as a professional photographer in fashion industry had kind of ruined it for him. Often, the most beautiful models are the most difficult to work with, at least if they know how others see them. As if they take their looks as granted, thinking they do not need to push themselves to get the shot. For this reason, Chris is already dreading the photo shoot of the day.

Chris doesn't quite know why he agreed to this particular job. Perhaps, it was because of the person making the request. Despite being somewhat of a rising star in the fashion photography, opportunities to work with amazing fashion designers don't come around that often. Perhaps, it was because of the magnitude of the job. The fashion ad campaign is no small deal due to wide exposure. Perhaps, it was because of the number of zeros after the first number in the pay check. More than enough to enable him to finish his personal photography project. And the only problem? The model he would need to work with.

Chris had not worked with the model previously, but he had heard, and read, quite enough of things in order to form an opinion about him. A rare case in which Chris had allowed himself to judge a book by it's cover, or at least by the reviews in the back. The similarities between Darren Criss and himself began and ended with the similar-sounding name. He has a reputation. After becoming one of the leading male models in the country three or four years ago, his pictures have been plastered on the gossip magazines, with the ever-changing arm candy by his side, almost more than on any fashion publications.

Darren is gorgeous. While he is shorter than the average fashion model, he definitely has the goods to make people in the industry to overlook his size. Dark brown hair just long enough to twist into wild angel curls, prominent jawline that covered by his trademark stubble and those lips that he knew how to use to his benefit, ranging from cocky smirks to shy smiles. And he knows just how gorgeous he is, he must know.

Darren enters the room with all of his exuberant energy fully intact, immediately engaging with the crew. Chris quickly glances him before focusing his attention back to his camera. He doesn't need to see the guy to know he is late. He also doesn't need to see the crew to know they are already swooning over him. And with the hearty laugh echoing in the studio, Chris can almost hear a couple hearts shattering due to unrequited love. The obnoxious little hobbit.

After a couple of Mississippies, Darren walks over to Chris who is fiddling with his camera. Chris hears the footsteps behind him, but continues to work on the camera settings. No need to feed Darren's ego by giving premature attention. His ego is surely inflated enough.

"Hi. I'm Darren Criss."

Chris turns to look at Darren, instantly narrowing his eyes. He gives a quick, firm handshake and says only his name before turning back to his camera.

"I think we haven't met before." 

Darren's voice is beautiful and light, but Chris almost huffs hearing the words. They actually have met before. Once. Briefly in a fashion show six or seven months ago. Of course, someone like Darren would not remember someone like Chris.

"If you say so."

Chris aimed for a cool and carefree comment, but he sounds surprisingly bitter and petty. As the words spill from his mouth, Chris wants to kick himself. After all, it isn't the first time an attractive guy forgot he even existed. Working around models, it is a rather common occurrence, in fact. And Chris has worked long enough to learn to ignore the pretty faces, because their beauty is not meant for him. It's only business, with both parties present due to money, or fame, or art, or any combination of those three things.

Chris turns to look at Darren who is still lingering next to him. This time he makes sure his tone is professional, cool and collected. "Okay, I think we can get started."

Chris gives directions to Darren talking him briefly through where he wants him to stand and what he wants him to do. And the way that Darren carefully listens to him makes Chris somehow hopeful, almost optimistic. Perhaps, there is more to Darren's success than just his good looks. Or perhaps, it's premature to draw such conclusions.

When Darren takes his place on the set and Chris looks at him through the camera lens, everything starts slowly falling apart. Darren looks absolutely stunning in the suit he is wearing. His curly hair is slicked back, but still wild and free. And there is a mesmerizing intensity in his eyes that hold Chris captive for a moment. It is beautiful, but it is still not what Chris wanted. In a way, Darren is doing exactly what Chris had asked from him. At the same time, he is doing completely something else. Something undirected. Something sexier than Chris wanted. Something more dangerous than he needed.

Chris tries to brush it off and work through it, because the pictures are not exactly bad. After a quick wardrobe change, he tries to redirect Darren again in order to get what he really wants. Things just get worse. He knows that Darren is not dim-witted or unwilling to work because he still takes some direction and pours all his focus in the moment. Yet, something is wrong, something is missing. 

Chris senses the magic is there, beyond the surface, but just out of his reach. After over an hour, he is frustrated. So frustrated that he is almost fuming which is confusing because he is usually the epitome of calm. The worst of all, he can't see how things will work out. 

Chris frowns and lowers his camera. Darren is staring at him, waiting for his next move. In the silence between them, Chris can see the hint of defiance in his eyes. Beautiful, but difficult to work with.

"Okay, that's enough for today. I think we have something we can use."

"Yeah? Okay."

Suddenly, Darren sounds uncertain, almost fragile. And it pains Chris, so he turns away from him and returns to the desk with the camera. Chris connects the camera to the laptop and starts scrolling through the pictures. Chris shakes his head knowing that he still has a couple of photo shoots scheduled with Darren in the coming weeks. And the frustration builds up again with every mouse click. 

Chris enjoys helping others to achieve their best potential, in the kindest possible way, but he has always been toughest on himself with everything he does. However, fashion photography is tricky. It is a collaborative effort where he can't control everything, not even if he would want to. The pressure is still on him, as the photographer who puts everything together, creating the story from the jagged notes. So he needs control. How can Chris get Darren to yield under his control and direction to get the story told? How can he tame this guy?

Chris noticed when Darren had walked over to him and knew that he had seen the pictures as well. And he feels annoyed again, so he cannot help but be a bit snarky, just to put the guy in his place. "We have photo shoot at the beach on Friday. Next time, don't be late!"

When Darren looks at him defiantly and storms out of the room, Chris sighs. Perhaps, this would not work out. Or perhaps, he could find a way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's just that Darren is... difficult to work with." Chris says quietly, ashamed. "He is, but he is also very good. Besides, he may not be the only one who is difficult to work with." Chris may have agreed to meet Darren for dinner, but he is not handing over all control.

"I don't think I can do this."

Despite the hesitation in his voice, Chris cannot help but feel a bit surprised that he said the words out loud. He _knows_ he is lucky. Chris has experienced enough of life to understand that rarely, people are given the opportunities that he has been presented with. He takes nothing for granted, and he operates under a constant fear. A fear of not being able to do things that he loves. While no one can take his camera away from him, unless they would need to pry it off his cold, dead fingers, the fact that he gets paid for taking pictures is not lost on him. And not pictures that just grace someone's family album. For this reason, he hates initiating this conversation, but knows better not to run and hide when things get difficult. But wasn't he in a way looking for a way out by voicing his thoughts?

Chris is talking with his contact for the fashion ad campaign. While he had briefly met the designer himself, she is the one who is in charge of the campaign. They had talked several times earlier. Chris felt at great ease with her from the beginning. A blessing really, because Chris is the kind of guy who embraces honesty, especially when it came to his work.

After Chris' words, she doesn't say anything as if she knew that Chris is struggling to get the whole story out.

"We had our first photo shoot for the campaign yesterday. And..." Chris tries to find the words to express his feelings in a professionally. "I'm just not happy with the pictures. We are just not clicking, artistically."

She silently studies Chris' face making him feel slightly uncomfortable under her inquisitive eyes. Then, a shallow crease forms between her eyebrows.

"I don't know exactly what happened in the studio, I may have heard some things, but let me just stop you right there. I have seen the pictures you sent me and I can assure you that things are not as bad as you think."

Chris had looked at the pictures himself again earlier that morning. On the second examination, he realized they were not exactly bad. Darren looked good. The suit flattered his tiny, toned physique in a way that would definitely arise some feelings on the ladies, and some men too. Chris swallows hard when the memories of the pictures flash as vivid visuals before his eyes.

"I just haven't met anyone like him. I don't really know how to get from him _what I need_."

She lunges into the story that Chris had heard once before. The designer had seen Chris' work in a small New York art gallery a couple of months ago and he had been immediately impressed with the intensity of the moments Chris had captured in the pictures. While Chris has not worked the designer previously, Darren has. The designer has used him for ad campaigns more than once, and he has been impressed with Darren each time.

"We paired you up for a reason. We knew that you are different and that the photo shoots could be tough. We knew, and we still took the risk."

Chris can hear the message between the softly spoken words. If the designer is taking a chance on him, can't Chris do the same? And he knows that they truly took a risk with him. They could have easily chosen someone older with more experience. Someone who could controlled Darren more easily. Yet, Chris is still attached to the project and he is the one struggling. Perhaps, it's an age thing. After all, Chris is a couple of years younger than Darren, so he may be lacking of the authority that comes with age. Or perhaps, it is an ego thing. After all, Darren is successful enough to carry around an ego the size of a small, but fully-grown, hippopotamus.

"It's just that Darren is... difficult to work with." Chris says quietly, ashamed.

She breaks out in a laugh. "He can be, but he is also very good. Besides, he may not be the only one who is difficult to work with. I mean, if his message from yesterday night holds true."

Chris is startled by her revelation. Darren had sent her a message after their photo shoot the previous night, essentially beating Chris to the punch. _Ooh, the little sneaky diva!_ And the thought of Darren sending a snide message about him in a fit of bad temper made Chris smile for some curious reason.

"Look, we won't hold the deal over your head, which we totally could. I am just saying that don't give up quite yet. Go to the next photo shoot. See how you feel after that."

"Fine... And thanks for everything."

Chris cannot quite believe he is still committed to this. He just hopes Darren is willing to commit as well.

\---

_Dinner tonight at 8 to bury the hatchet?_

Chris stares at the message for a long time as he cradles his mobile phone in his hands. He is still in bed taking his time to wake up after another sleepless night. An unknown number and no name in the message, but he knows exactly who sent it. The message is timed at 03:49. Someone clearly had a long, perhaps not entirely sober, night.

Chris don't really know what to think about the invitation. A dinner with a ridiculously gorgeous guy who has a different girl on his arm almost every week? Now, that doesn't sound dangerous at all! After all, a dinner invitation from a guy typically meant something quite different for Chris. Something that Darren would have known if he bothered to read up on him at all. At least, Chris' head knows not to read too much into this dinner invitation, hopefully his heart would too.

It is no secret that Chris is gay. It never really was a secret to him, his family, his friends or anyone around him, so he had not kept it hidden when he started getting attention as a professional photographer. While being gay was a constant source of torment in high school, in the fashion industry, it brings a level of credibility in some bizarre way. For this reason, the fashion industry quickly became his safe harbor affirming his choice of career.

While the odds of running into another gay guy in his line of work where slightly better than in many other jobs, Chris made it a point, early on in his career, to not mix business and pleasure. There are only a handful of tremendous talents out there who he is desperate to work with. And he doesn't want to jinx any future opportunities with a momentary bliss, regardless how mouth-watering the bliss may be.

Of course, his conviction led to a lonely lifestyle, especially since he is not actively looking for momentary, or a bit more long-term, bliss outside work either. Then again, Chris has always had an overly romanticized notion of human interactions. It is linked to his vulnerability that makes him a great photographer. However, it is also the reason behind his severely limited number of encounters, of any kind, for a guy his age.

Still, Chris can't complain, because life is good. He is out of the conservative small town that nearly choked creativity and uniqueness out of him while growing up. He is in New York working on things he loves.

And on that note, Chris reminds himself that this is work, only work, making the decision easier.

_Sure. Meet you at Cestino. -Chris_

Chris may have agreed to meet Darren for dinner, but he is not handing over all control. If Darren gets to choose time, Chris chooses the place. Besides, he won't eat just from any old trash can.

\---

When he enters the Italian restaurant five minutes early, Chris is surprised to see Darren at the bar. Yet, he is not surprised to see the almost empty glass of whiskey on his hand. Chris stops to hesitate at the door, almost wanting to escape, but he can't turn back.

Chris takes in a deep breath as he allows his eyes to graze Darren's body who is leaning on bar and chatting with the bartender. Darren is wearing a light gray Henley under his cobalt blazer which he had combined with simple, but very form-fitting, black jeans. His curls are slicked back, but a bit messier than in the photo shoot earlier in the week. Although Darren is partially facing the other direction, Chris can see that there is that light stubble again. The stubble that could rub Chris' own sensitive skin raw if he would be allowed to do the things he secretly wanted.

Suddenly, Darren turns to look towards the door and immediately catches Chris' eyes. Chris blushes a bit hoping that the dim lighting will keep his secrets hidden. As Darren slowly walks over to Chris, there is a tiny smile twitching in his mouth corner.

After they are seated at the table, Darren stares at Chris over his open menu for what felt like minutes. Chris tries to ignore it. The silence feels heavy between them, but Chris doesn't know what to do or to say around the guy.

"Look, kid. I think we got off on the wrong foot. We have still a couple of photo shoots ahead, so perhaps, we can make most of them if we just, you know, get to know each other a bit better."

Chris cringes hearing Darren call him a kid. However, he intuitively knows it is not a reference to his age, as Darren is barely older than him. It feels like an endearment, almost like babe, but softer, sweeter and more subtle. And in a way, he prefers being called a kid to being called a dude or a bro, because he is really neither of those and because those would definitely indicate Darren friend-zoning him.

"Sure."

And there is silence again. Chris' camera has always been his security blanket in social situations. Without it, he feels a bit, well, naked. Of course, being actually naked with a guy like Darren would not be bad, not bad at all. However, his reality is quite different from the day dream. While Darren seems to be socially fully clothed in the relaxed way he slouches on his chair and allows his eyes boldly rest on him, and anyone else in the room, Chris feels naked in his own social ineptitude. And it's not even cute.

"So Chris, where are you from?"

"I'm from Clovis. It's this small town in Fresno, California."

"Oh, cool!"

"No, not cool. Clovis and cool can never appear in same context. If they did, the world would implode, or something." Chris hurries to say, almost blushing again as the nervous words pour out.

Darren laughs. "No, I actually meant cool that you're from Clovis. 'Cause I'm from San Francisco, so we were basically neighbors."

After the ice is broken, Chris and Darren continue to talk about trivial things as they order and enjoy the dinner. Chris is amazed how comfortable he feels around Darren. His usual self-consciousness is gone, and he actually enjoys talking with him. Chris learns that they have surprisingly many interests in common. And when they discover interests or opinions they do not share, Darren quickly pulls Chris into a friendly, flirty bickering match.

Over an hour later, Darren leans back on the chair and quietly stares at Chris. Darren is done with his meal and his fingers mindlessly play with the stem of his almost empty wine glass while Chris is finishing off his own plate.

"You know, in the photo shoot, I was not trying to piss you off or anything. I'm kind of used to working in a certain way."

Chris looks up from his plate and decides to abandon his meal. Darren's voice is light, but the words seem heavy somehow. Obviously, he just approached the conversation that they had brilliantly managed to avoid for most of the dinner.

"Yeah, I suppose I'm the same." Chris hesitates before continuing. "I often have this vision, inside my head, on how I want things. It comes to me even before I walk to the set. When something fucks that up, I have trouble dealing with it."

For some reason, Chris' mouth seems to think that honesty is the best policy while his brain would have not agreed to be so liberal with his statement. Clearly, two glasses of wine and a pair of most beautiful hazel eyes on you can make you do silly, silly things.

"I totally get that, but..." Darren looks away from Chris as he is constructing his thoughts. "If you arrive to the set with your mind made up, you are sort of robbing me of my task. Is it not my job to inspire you?"

When Darren turns to look at Chris again, there is a deeper intensity in his eyes, almost sending a shiver down Chris' spine. Darren's head is slightly tilted down, so his eyebrows are beautifully framing the wide-eyed stare. His pupils are large. And there is no hesitation in his eyes. Chris has trouble focusing on the discussion with the hazel eyes locked on his.

"P-Perhaps."

Chris' voice is weak and high-pitch in the way that usually made him feel insecure. However, he is too lost in the eye contact to fully acknowledge his own existence.

"... but you can't really inspire someone if they are not willing to be inspired. Great ideas can't be forced. They emerge only if you let go and allow them to come to you."

Then, Darren lifts his chin and his lips twist into a flirty smirk. The one that was worth perhaps millions, or at least should be. The one that no mere mortal can resist, a woman or a man, straight or gay. Of course, being deprived of love and affection doesn't really help Chris either in the whole resisting department.

"I kind of have trouble letting go of control." Chris admits quietly.

With his mind quickly turning into a mush, Chris barely manages to produce any kind of coherent replies, let alone to think before he speaks. So again, he blurted out the truth. Truth that he knows reveals more about him that he feels comfortable sharing with others. Yet, there is something about the way Darren keeps looking at him that Chris can't really stop himself. He would probably tell his deepest, darkest secrets to Darren, if he only asked. Possibly even if he did not ask, which was beyond scary.

"Oh, really? I didn't notice." Darren cocks his eyebrow and laughs. The laugh is not teasing or tormenting, just relaxed and joyous.

Chris feels blush rise to his cheeks, starting to feel self-conscious again. Almost like sensing the shift in energy, the laugh withers away and a tender smile emerges on the beautiful lips.

"If you just relaxed and released some of your control, you _could_ find something truly beautiful."

Darren sounds almost shy with his last words. As the words sink in, Chris begins to realize that it may not be only Darren who needed to be tamed for things to work. Perhaps, it is him as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what happened between then and now? Chris met Darren. Things seemed fine, if only for a second. Chris is half-expecting that the confusion in his mind will suddenly disintegrate if he continues to look at the guy long enough. Yet, it doesn't.

Chris loved outdoors photo shoots. Natural light has that magic quality which can't be fully replicated with studio equipment. It makes everything radiate. Perhaps, the light has nothing to do with the beauty that blooms in people outdoors. Perhaps, it is joy, our personal sun illuminating us from within, that emerges when we are out under the open skies, free from our daily cages. Of course, there is also a certain appeal to operating under the mercy of Mother Nature. The controlled danger of the situation in which things could change at any second. Yes, Chris had always loved outdoors photo shoots. And today, Chris would head for the beach to take pictures for the fashion ad campaign.

When the details for the ad campaign were hashed out, Chris was excited for this particular photo shoot. When he did the test shoot at the beach a week ago, he was still excited. Now, he is no longer excited. And what happened between then and now? Chris met Darren.

In their first photo shoot, Chris and Darren didn't play nice together, but the hatched was buried over dinner last night. Darren paid, and Chris allowed him, only because he had suggested the dinner in the first place. Chris actually enjoyed his time with Darren, returning home alone later than he had planned. Things seemed fine, if only for a second, until he was catapulted in a state of confusion when he caught a glimpse of his dimpled smile from the bathroom mirror.

Within Chris, there is a constant battle between head and heart. Often, it means trying to logically process the emotions after they have instinctively emerged. Chris would prefer a reversed process where he could choose the appropriate reaction after careful deliberation. Yet, his emotions usually run faster than his thoughts. (Not that his mind is slow. In fact, it is annoyingly fast at times!) His mind just needs time to catch up, to analyze the immediate emotional responses. And eight hours fifty five minutes is clearly not enough time to process the feelings that Darren's presence brought up in him, but it was all the time he was given.

Chris arrives to the studio forty five minutes before they are scheduled to leave together for the location shoot. He expected to have time for himself, to gather his camera equipment and to make sure that he has everything needed. And most importantly, to get mentally in a place where he can look at the source of his confusion for couple of hours through his camera lens. Yet, Darren has arrived to the studio before him, considerably before him since he is almost done with hair and make-up. Chris cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt, the memory of his harsh words. _Next time, don't be late!_

Chris tries to keep himself busy, to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keep drifting to Darren, even when he's not in the same room. After Darren is released from the chair that held him captive in preparation, Chris' eyes become as treacherous as his mind. Darren moves around the studio in an enthusiastic flurry, much like in the first photo shoot. Conversation and laughter seem to follow him, almost as faithfully as Chris' eyes. He tries not to stare, or at least get caught staring, but fails miserably a couple of times. When their eyes meet from across the room, Darren just smiles at him before refocusing on the person with whom he is talking.

As he packs his equipment, Chris keeps stealing glances at Darren as if he is the key to the mystery. Chris is half-expecting that the confusion in his mind will suddenly disintegrate if he stares the guy long enough. Yet, it doesn't. And the longer he waits, the more irritated he becomes. Partially at himself, partially at Darren who flutters around the room like a social butterfly from person to person without a care in the world. Obviously, Darren doesn't share his state of confusion.

By the time Darren finally rounds on him, Chris feels too annoyed to look at him. He hears Darren greet him, but he ignores him. Chris' cold shoulder is particularly icy this morning. However, he needs time and space, because obviously, proximity leads to thoughts he'd rather avoid.

Yet, Darren stands silently next to him. Chris can feel his eyes on him, following his every move. And it makes him even more irritated.

"So, Colfer, are you excited for today's shoot? Sun, sand and sea, I mean, is there a better way to spend a day at work?"

Chris snorts, but doesn't stop packing the equipment. He can feel Darren's eyes on him, following his every move. And it makes him even more irritated.

"Spending hours under the glaring sun isn't really my idea of fun. Being fair and freckled doesn't help much."

"Hey, I think freckles are cute." Darren's voice is light, annoyingly chipper.

"Yes, if you're a five year old girl, not if you're over twenty years old dude!"

The words are not that different from his usual sarcastic retorts, but the sharpness in his voice makes him sound hostile. Darren seems to get the message loud and clear. And yet, Chris doesn't feel relieved when he senses Darren packing off.

"If you say so." Darren says quietly before walking away.

\---

When Chris pulls over to the parking lot near the beach, he is almost ten minutes behind the schedule. Darren had arrived to the location some minutes earlier, since he is already dressed and ready to get started. And Chris is not sure which made him more annoyed.

At the studio, Chris had arranged Darren to take a separate ride to the beach. With a number of others joining them at the location, all of them would have not fit in the same car. Of course, it was not a coincident that Darren was ushered into a different car.

Chris hoped for relaxing forty five minutes without the guy in a desperate attempt to find peace of mind within that time frame. Instead, he got fifty five minutes of being stuck in morning traffic. And listening to the senseless chatter of two assistants in the backseat for the entire fifty five minutes which further spiked his stress levels.

After a rushed setup and test shots, the actual photo shoot begins, more than twenty minutes behind the schedule. By that time, Chris is beyond frustrated. And in such moments, he becomes consumed by the need to get the work done. In this case, it means taking over the reins, fast and hard, regardless of any words exchanged the previous night.

\---

Half way through the photo shoot, Chris has burned a significant part of his earlier frustration. He can finally stop to take in the moment as he holds the camera in his hands.

Darren is a few of feet away from him, at the boardwalk with the golden beach and blue skies as his backdrop. His face and posture is the essence of controlled calm, standing tall and staring into distance, like Chris had directed. The light gray suit flatters him beautifully, especially after the assistant added a couple of pins in the back. Darren’s curly hair is carefully slicked back, but allowed to bend into a wave. And all of it makes Chris feel that Darren is somehow disturbingly tamed down, at odds with his true nature, or what Chris assumes is his true nature.

“Hey Darren.”

When the words prompt Darren to turn and look towards him, Chris almost shies away, unwilling to push towards the vision he has in mind for the next shots. He rushes to his next line in order to not lose his nerves.

“Can you just slowly run your left hand through your hair? Don’t worry about messing it up a bit.”

Chris catches the quick twitch of hidden smile on Darren's mouth corner. When Darren goes on to fulfill his request, Chris instantly realizes he is getting more than he bargained for. A half-lidded gaze directly to the camera with fingers slowly raking through his hair. Darren stops a couple of times providing Chris a better opportunity to catch the image on film. The hand slides down lower, and Darren tilts his head slightly back revealing the tender skin on his neck. When the palm is resting on the bare skin at the side of his neck, Darren lowers his chin and stares into the camera.

"Wait." The murmur of a hoarse voice.

Chris lowers his camera. With a couple of long strides, he is standing in front of Darren. Chris reaches his hand out to straighten a lock of unruly curls that is sticking out awkwardly. He is careful not to look into Darren's eyes and not to touch him, because there is something bewildering about Darren's proximity, and his intoxicating scent that Chris can't fully ignore. When Chris' eyes betray his conscious mind, he notices that Darren is silently looking at him. Wide-eyed and curious, with pupils almost blown, despite the brightness of the day.

"Don't move."

Chris' voice is quiet and soft, unlike before. As the words leave his lips, Chris returns to his place in a safe distance from Darren. Back to work. Back trying to ignore how intensely the gorgeous guy is staring at him. No. Back to reality. Darren is looking at the camera, like he is paid to do. And the brutal reminder is enough to push Chris into action. 

After a couple of quick shots, Chris lowers his camera. “Okay. I got it. You can go and get changed.”

Chris keeps his eyes focused on the camera screen, fiddling with the settings, as Darren walks by him. With the last outfit left, the photo shoot will soon be over. Almost done. Soon, Chris would be free to return to the studio, without Darren in his car. And then, free to go home and take a long, cold shower alone.

\---

Darren is slouching against the boardwalk railing, staring into distance. The white button-up under the light blue blazer clings to his chest as his elbows rest on the railing behind him. Chris takes a couple of shots changing the angle a bit.

“Turn your head a bit more to the left and tilt your chin a bit down.”

Darren immediately follows Chris’ direction.

“Yes, just like that.”

The finger hovers over the button in a brief moment of hesitation. Not because something is wrong, quite the opposite in fact. Chris has been completely focused on directing Darren. And he hasn’t even realized how Darren gives him what he wants each shot. Darren is listening to his every word and acting them out. Making things easy for Chris, making things comfortable for him. Yet, it doesn’t feel enough, because Chris is beginning to understand how much more he wants.

Chris takes another shot. Then, he glances at his watch. Half an hour left.

“Great, thanks!” Chris pauses. “I think we’ll do something a bit different for the last shots. Would you mind taking off the jacket, shoes and socks? We could take some pictures on the beach.”

Half an hour of freedom for the wild child within Darren after almost two hours wearing oppressive suits, controlling every minute detail and being heavily directed by a know-it-all photographer. It is something Chris can give to Darren, the least he can give after everything Darren has given him. And seeing the excited smile on Darren's lips brushes away any apprehension that Chris had over his idea.

Darren quickly takes off the jacket and hands it over to the assistant. While Chris has a quick word with the crew, Darren takes off his shoes and socks. He is neatly rolling his sleeves up with the help of the assistant when Chris finally turns back to him.

"Ready?" Chris asks with a tentative smile.

"Always." Darren responds with a grin on his face.

Chris leads Darren to the beach with only two people following them. Secretly, Chris would have wanted it to be just Darren and him, but he knows he needed helping hands. And even with company, it is still Darren and him.

Chris turns to look at Darren who seems more at ease than he has been during the photo shoot.

"I want these pictures to be different, not serious or sultry. You may be still wearing an expensive suit at the beach, but, I don't know, just have fun!"

"I can definitely do that!" Darren replies with a big, excited smile.

When they continue with the photo shoot, Chris is amazed by the variation that Darren showers him with in the short period of time. In first few shots, Darren is walking towards the camera with a radiant smile. In the next few, he is sitting at the beach staring at the sea like he is lost in his memories. Then, Darren is off running, jumping and laughing again. All of the shots are not good. Most of them may not be what the designer wants, but there is a mesmerizing freedom and joy in the pictures.

Chris almost struggles to keep up with Darren's relentless energy. Yet, any time Chris gives him direction, Darren stops to listen and brings it to life in the next shots. A couple of times, Darren builds upon Chris' directions, like responding to Chris and trying to form a dialogue between them through their work.

At the end of the photo shoot, Darren is walking at the waterline. He is staring directly at the camera, and Chris is staring at him. The confusion creeps back in his mind, but time is quickly running out.

When they finally wrap up the photo shoot, Darren turns to look at himself. His pants are soaked up to the knee, dusted with sand, but he is smiling and laughing. Although Chris has not managed to keep himself fully dry, he is not quite a wreck like Darren.

"Nothing like getting paid to ruin a perfect pair of 200 dollar pants with a bit of sea water and sand!" Darren says.

Chris and Darren are walking side by side towards the car. Chris realizes that he is starting to feel more and more comfortable around Darren, adding to his earlier confusion. He is often reserved around other people, especially near strangers who have not earned his trust. And it typically took months, for some even years, to earn his trust. However, there is something different about Darren, and it makes Chris worried. The more he trusts Darren around him, the less he trusts himself around Darren.

"Well, technically, you're not getting paid to ruin them, since this wasn't really a part of the official plan. It was my idea, just in the moment."

Darren laughs and says with mock horror. "Oh, God, you're going to get me fired with your spur of the moment ideas!"

Chris cannot help but respond to Darren’s laugh with a shy smile of his own. And he knows it is happening. He is giving up some of his control and allowing himself to get inspired by Darren. After all, Chris changed his plans for Darren. It is all just because of being inspired, isn't it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A weekend of serious contemplation and Chris reached the conclusion that he had unconsciously known all along. He has an ill-advised crush on a gorgeous male model who is not only straight, but also a well-known ladies' man, if the gossip holds true. He employs his time-tested tactics of keeping professional distance, but remaining friendly enough to not seem rude or to raise suspicions.

A weekend of serious contemplation and Chris reached the conclusion that he had unconsciously known all along. He found a name for the feelings that Darren had stirred inside him. An infatuation. An ill-advised crush on a gorgeous male model who is not only straight, but also a well-known ladies' man, if the gossip holds true.

Chris had assumed that he would be done with the misguided feelings after growing numb to the beauty surrounding him on a daily basis. And he was done. On Monday, Chris worked with another model for the ad campaign. He was not fully clothed, but he was exactly Chris' type, like he had been poured into a mold of pure perfection. Yet, Chris mind kept creeping back to Darren throughout the photo shoot.

Chris is slightly nervous when he finally sees Darren at a photo shoot on Tuesday morning. He may have admitted to himself that his feelings for Darren aren't exactly platonic, but he is determined not to reveal it to anyone, especially not to Darren. It would not be easy. People have often said that he is difficult to read, but Chris' emotions, not only love or lust, feel too strong to remain hidden for long. He employs his time-tested tactics of keeping professional distance, but remaining friendly enough to not seem rude or to raise suspicions.

During the photo shoot, Chris is doing a great, with his work and his secret. There's a state of flow in the set leading to a lot of good pictures, almost effortlessly. Although Chris directs Darren, he allows him to play off his directions and to initiate his own ideas as well. It is deepening the dialogue they started at the end of their last photo shoot. After his initial nerves dissipate, Chris feels relaxed and confident being around Darren. Perhaps, it's Darren's care-free energy that is seeping into him. A welcome change from his usual, tightly wound presence.

After the shoot, something unexpected happens. Maybe, it's the high after a great photo shoot. Maybe, it's Chris giving into his feelings for the guy. Chris is talking with Darren about the photo shoot scheduled for Thursday. As they are about to wrap up the conversation, Chris asks Darren out. Kind of accidentally. Not on a date, but late lunch. As he tries not to blush, mostly failing but hopefully not too obviously, Chris can't look away from Darren because he doesn't want to miss his reaction, whatever it may be.

Darren doesn't seem surprised by his question, or repelled by the notion of spending more time with Chris. He does seem to consider the offer for a moment. When Darren finally declines, Chris thinks he hears a twinge of genuine regret in his voice. Of course, Chris can't really trust his instincts about the subject in his current condition.

"Next time, Colfer. I promise." Darren says before walking away.

A promise that made Chris' heart leap. A promise that he would not hold against him. Chris asked Darren out. Darren declined. End of story, at least it would be if they didn't still have a couple of photo shoots left.

\---

On Thursday, Chris' alarm wakes him up almost three hours before sunrise. He slept less than two hours, as insomnia kept him awake past midnight. Chris is tired. Yet, he can't stay in bed because he's scheduled for an outdoor photo shoot at sunrise. At least he had arranged things so he can go directly to the location, not through the studio.

Chris is tired, not only physically. He has consciously kept controlling his thoughts and constraining his feelings since weekend. And it's exhausting, because years of practice don't fully take the strain away.

Sleep deprivation doesn't work well with Chris. He can be snarky even on best of mornings. When he's tired, he seems to completely lose his filter, in good and bad ways. Waking up in this ungodly hour doesn't feel good or right, but the notion of seeing Darren again makes Chris feel a bit better, dulling the pain of not staying in comfortable bed. (What he wouldn't give to see Darren there, in his bed, with him, instead of the photo shoot?) Yet, having no filter around Darren seems dangerous. Perhaps, Chris should be more worried about what he might say. In all honesty, he is too tired to care, so he doesn't.

A diet Coke later, Chris is dressed and his equipment packed. He drives through the empty streets enjoying the calming lull before the city and it's suburbs come to life. A moment of peace before another work day. When Chris pulls over to the parking lot near the park, his assistant is already there waiting for him. They start immediately preparing for the photo shoot. When the set is almost ready, Darren arrives sharing a ride with a couple of other people from the studio. His hair and make-up is done. Outside the car, an assistant does a couple of quick final adjustments to his outfit before he is ready as well.

"I know you're tired. We'll try to be quick and efficient today." Chris says softly as he walks over to Darren.

Darren is sleepy-eyed, but incredibly cute. It doesn't really seem quite fair. Darren had a team of experts that made him look good, whereas Chris just rolled out from bed and probably looks as horrendous as he feels. Yet, Darren turns to look at him with a smile.

"I'm okay. No hurry. I want the pictures to be _good_."

After the quick test shots, the real work begins. Chris and Darren quickly fall into their roles as photographer and model, but something is different from previous times. They are particularly warm and friendly in their interaction with each other. Instead of his usual polite, but determined directions, Chris offers Darren more subtle, gentle requests this time. And Darren responds in a similar manner. He listens to Chris and delivers with careful precision asking for further guidance when he feels unsure. When he has something he wants to try, Darren asks permission talking Chris through his idea before acting on it.

The way they speak to each other in low, soft murmurs feels intimate. It feels like it's just the two of them, although they are not alone. Chris is so lost in Darren that he forgets the existence of others. And he hopes that at least part of Darren feels the same.

When Darren walks back to the car for his first wardrobe change, Chris stays behind, but his eyes follow him. The assistant is waiting for Darren with the car door open and the next outfit laid on the back seat of the car. After a couple of quick words, he starts removing his accessories and clothes passing them to her. Darren strips down to his underwear, like it is the most natural thing, chattering and smiling to the assistant throughout the process. There is no hesitation, shame or self-consciousness.

Chris stands frozen in the place where he was taking the pictures, with the camera in his hands. He can't really stare at Darren, but he doesn't manage to tear his eyes away either. Chris tries to look at him covertly while fiddling his camera. Yet, a part of him doesn't even care who might notice the way his eyes roam Darren's body. If he wasn't so tired or surprisingly bold, in this fleeting moment, he would have blushed. Maybe he does blush a bit. But who could really blame him staring at a guy like that? If Darren was at all willing, Chris would happily make an exception for him, with him, on his rule about not mixing business and pleasure. Seeing him half-naked confirmed it for Chris.

Before Chris has the chance to enjoy the views too long, or to get caught doing it, Darren puts on his next outfit with the same relaxed confidence that he removed his clothes. When he is dressed, Darren looks towards Chris and smiles. After quick touch-ups on hair and make-up, Darren returns to the set.

When they continue with the photo shoot, Chris feels something has changed. There is tension, on his side anyways. Perhaps because Chris can't fully shake certain images out of his mind, like the lean back muscles or the strong, well-defined thighs, among other more mouth-watering sights. Chris tries to focus his attention on the work at hand. And he largely succeeds, at least until Darren has another wardrobe change.

Chris takes his time with the last pictures. He understands the importance of making memories, not just capturing them in pictures, because even the best pictures pale in comparison to the reality. And Chris wants to remember this moment. The sun low on the horizon behind Darren casts an orange glow on his features. He is sitting on a dusty paved pathway wearing a thick, knitted cardigan, light denim button-up and white jeans. His posture is relaxed while he stares into distance like lost in his thoughts. All of it is soft, vulnerable and dreamy. It feels like that moment just before the first kiss with a new lover when you want to take in everything about them, all the little features, because you know that everything is about to change and you want to remember how he looked before and how you felt before.

"Thanks, Dare. I got it. We're wrapped for today." Chris' voice sounds weak, fragile, but the words are out.

Chris returns to his car with the camera on his hands and opens the trunk of his car. He takes out his laptop from the bag and connects his camera to it, while Darren is changing into his own clothes a few feet away from Chris. Chris knows he is there, but knows not to look at him this time. After Darren has managed to get back into his jeans, he walks over to Chris and quickly yanks his T-shirt on. Chris keeps his eyes on the laptop screen and starts going through the pictures, while Darren lingers near him. Darren doesn't say anything. He is just silently focused on the laptop screen and smelling as gorgeous as he looks.

After quickly scrolling through the pictures, Chris finally turns to look at Darren with a shy smile. "The pictures came good, so we're done for the today. I'll see you next week for our next photo shoot."

Darren looks at Chris. The way his brows furrow makes Chris confused and wonder whether he said or did something wrong.

"Rain check on lunch then?"

Darren's voice is light, but hesitant. He continues to stare at Chris expectantly, until Chris quickly realizes what Darren means. The promise. Darren remembers, and he is committed to keep his promise if Chris would just allow him.

"Yeah." There is a pause as Chris is scrambling for a coherent reply. "I mean. No, we can definitely go now if you still want. I just thought you might be too tired or something."

"Great! Then, let's go." A toothy grin spreads on Darren's face.

\---

Two empty plates and two guys sitting opposite of each other. Neither seems to be in a hurry to leave. Chris leans forward resting arms on the diner table. Darren looks at him with a big, bright smile as he is finishing his story. It's not a date. Chris knows that Darren isn't interested in him. He is just happy to spend time with Darren, even as friends or whatever.

"I think you haven't told me how you got into photography." Darren's voice is light.

"It's kind of a long story."

"Good thing I have time!"

It is also a story that Chris has not shared with anyone in the city. While Darren is not the first to ask, he is the first Chris wants to tell. And he does. He tells about her sister's struggles with her health that put her in hospital many times. About everything that his parents went through having a daughter with special needs. About memories that needed to be preserved and treasured, just in case. He doesn't tell about himself. About the way that photography gave him an escape from heaviness of life, being constantly bullied at school and always worried at home. Some things are still too difficult to say out loud.

Darren carefully listens to every word. When Chris tells about his sister, Darren reaches over the table to place his hand on Chris' forearm. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't ask questions. Darren just gives a couple of low encouraging hums, and the warm hand never leaves his arm.

Chris' voice gets lighter as he gets past the angsty part of his story. "Photography quickly developed into something more. It became a way for me to express my thoughts and feelings, and to tell stories through pictures."

"I feel sort of same way about modeling. I know it sounds stupid." Darren leans back in the chair releasing his gentle grip on Chris' arm and shakes his head in disbelief as he continues. "I don't care about seeing my pictures in magazine or billboards. All of that is a bit crazy and awkward to me. When I'm working, I'm in the moment. And in that moment, I get to express thing, my thoughts and feelings. Even better, I get to project how others think or feel. In a way, getting inside their minds and giving voice to them."

Every time Chris has come close figuring out who Darren really is, Darren says something that amazes him. While they have not shared many private conversations, he has experienced this element of surprise a few times. This time the thing that caught Chris slightly off guard was not the passion or smarts behind his words but the humility. In the photo shoots, Chris has seen only the top male model who confidently poses in front of the camera. And he had not realized that the attention Darren gathers through his brilliance might not be what he seeks.

Suddenly, Darren laughs a little. "Of course, it's not quite like that most of the time. There are things that pay the bills, and there are things like love and art. Usually, they don't mix."

"I know how you feel. At work, I get to bring ideas to life, to create new images and look at beautiful things." Chris flusters at his last admission, but recovers quickly. "But I'm always working on my own side projects, just to fulfill for my artistic needs."

"You're working on something now?"

Chris feels shy looking at Darren. "Yeah."

"Cool!"

There is silence between them again. Chris doesn't know what to say. He has always been extremely protective of his art, granting even his family and friends a limited access to his pictures. Memories he could easily share, but not his thoughts and feeling. Working as a professional photographer, first in a small photography studio and later as a freelancer focusing on fashion, he shares his own thoughts and feelings through work, but they are diluted with other elements affecting the picture.

The photographs Chris takes for his own projects are different. They are personal, they have always been personal. It took him a couple of years before he felt comfortable enough to offer a collection of his photographs for an art gallery. The gallery was not interested. It took him a year to try again, but he is glad he did, because it was the first step, in a series of steps, to lead him here.

"Could you-" Chris stops. "Never mind."

"What you were going to say?"

"Would you mind modeling for me, for the project I'm working on? I can't pay you or anything, but it wouldn't need to be a big thing. You could come over to my place one day, we'll do a quick photo shoot and you're off to continue your day."

"Of course, I'd be happy to help. This weekend?" Darren quickly replies with an excited smile.

Chris doesn't know what came as a bigger surprise: his question or Darren's answer. No, the latter, definitely the latter. Chris' question was unplanned. A careless thought that just slipped from his tongue. There was no hook to reel Darren in, so it couldn't be this easy. Darren can't mean it. What kind of crazy person agrees to something without asking for details? Or only asking when?

"Uh, whenever you're free is fine."

"Great! It's a plan. We'll hash out the details later. I'll call you tomorrow if that's okay."

"Okay."

Darren stares at Chris for a while before narrowing his eyes. "Wait!"

Chris knew it could not be that easy. He knew Darren would change his mind. Chris won't hold it against him. He could never hold anything against Darren.

"This project, you're working on..." Darren pauses dramatically. A flirty smile rushes to his lips. "... it's not some artistic nudes?"

Darren is teasing him. Chris knows it, but he doesn't stop him from blushing. And seeing his reaction, Darren's grin just grows wider.

"Not that I haven't done that for money, but I saw myself naked recently and I was not impressed. There is no right kind of camera setting or lighting to make my bare assets a piece of art."

Darren is laughing while Chris seems to be having a minor heart attack or sudden asthma attach, or perhaps both. Despite the obvious blush, Chris manages to keep his cool, mostly. Hopefully, Darren can't read his mind, though, because Chris suddenly develops an urgent need to search for _certain assets_ online. It may or may not be linked with some other needs arising in him.

Chris looks at Darren whose laugh has reduced to an amused smile. And he realizes that to him, Darren is a piece of art, the whole of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, there is a cute guy coming over to his house. When it's been weeks, verging on months, since your last date, minor details, like lack of mutual attraction, become irrelevant. Chris doesn't hesitate to push into work mode. The deal was only the photo shoot, nothing more.

Chris stops to look at himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time. He's not vain. Of course, he likes to look good, just as much as anyone. But today, it is worse. Today, there is a cute guy coming over to his house. When it's been weeks, verging on months, since your last date, minor details, like lack of mutual attraction, become irrelevant. Things might not lead anywhere, but it will still provide better material for daydreams.

Chris is sitting on the living room couch trying to keep himself busy when the doorbell rings, five minutes earlier than expected. An excited smile rushes to his lips which he manages to suffocate before opening the door.

"You look... different." Chris says as his eyes land on Darren.

Darren is wearing a plain, white long-sleeved T-shirt with dark gray jeans. His dark hair freely twists into soft, loose ringlets, and his jaw is bare without his trademark stubble. Chris is struck by how young he looks, especially with the coy smile. Darren seems nervous somehow, fiddling with the strap of the back bag that is hanging from his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what you wanted for the pictures. I should have asked."

Seeing the look on Darren's face, almost pleading for forgiveness, the next words spill out before Chris has a chance to stop himself. "No, you're good. You're perfect."

Chris clearly has an underlying case of saying before thinking which resurfaces only in Darren's company. He couldn't be more obvious with his silly school boy crush unless he'd just leap into Darren's arms kissing him senseless. Gladly, Chris' recent lack of impulse control isn't affecting his actions. Of course, he can't really be mad about his condition since his previous slip of tongue did get him here, privately with Darren in his house on Saturday.

Chris feels nerves creeping in, but his words have an opposite effect on Darren who relaxes into a squinty grin. Then, Chris quickly realizes that they are still stuck at the door, so he invites Darren in.

Walking over the doorstep, Darren takes his first curious looks at the interiors. Chris examines Darren's every small move and facial expression as he leaves his shoes and bag in the corridor and walks deeper into the house.

There is something intimate about inviting a person to your home, especially for Chris who values his privacy. While people's eyes may be the windows to their souls, their homes are the mirrors of their minds. Allowing another person to your home means sharing your interests, thoughts and opinions, as they are present in the combination of the things that you own. And Chris hopes to catch some kind of sign in Darren suggesting that he likes what he sees.

After glancing around the spacious living room, Darren turns to look at Chris eyebrows furrowing.

"This is not what I imagined."

When Chris moved to New York a few years ago, he had first lived in a cramped city apartment in a bad neighborhood with several roommates. It wasn't home, but it did make him work harder in order to get out of there, achieving the goal sooner than he expected. This house was his first big investment after he moved to the city. Not new or fancy, but his own. Of course, Chris had a few roommates during the first year just to make ends meet, and he would not be out of debt any day soon, despite having managed alone for almost have a year now.

Outside, the house looks like all of the other houses in the neighborhood, but inside, it is all him. The contrast of light furniture against the dark hard-wood floors. The brightness of the day flooding to the living room from the big windows leading to the backyard. The walls covered with several large black and white photographs, or at least the walls that are not taken over by the number of bookshelves scattered room.

"Then, what did you imagine?" Chris asks trying to sound as casual as possible.

Darren shrugs and gives a hesitant smile. "I don't know. You're a tough guy to read."

"So I've heard."

"I don't mind. I _love_ challenges."

There is a smile twitching on Darren's mouth corner, as he looks at Chris with a cocked eyebrow. Darren said the words in a low, confident voice. Almost the same way that left a string of fluttering hearts behind at the photo shoots.

"I knew you're not really a big city boy, but I still wouldn't have picked you for someone to be living in the suburbs and driving an SUV."

When Chris realizes that Darren is playfully taunting him, he can't resist adding a bit of fuel to the fire with an impish smile. "I bake, too."

"You got to be kidding me?!"

"I may not be cool, but at least the whole soccer mom thing helps to blend in with the natives. And if I hadn't been the photographer in so many gatherings in the neighborhood, I'm sure they would have already come to my door torches and pitchforks. Of course, they could still come at any minute."

Darren laughs. "Oh, you're cool, but I think hanging out here with you might not be as safe as I thought."

"C'on. I'll show you around and make sure to point out the emergency exits, just in case." Chris says with a wicked smile.

Chris gives Darren a quick tour of the house. There is not much to see, especially since a certain door remains strategically closed. His bedroom is definitely not safe for Darren, or for Chris. Of course, Chris wouldn't just jump on the poor guy, but things could happen, embarrassing things. At the very least he couldn't hide his obvious longing looks between Darren and his bed. Besides, Darren doesn't need to see where the magic hasn't happen in a long, long time. Gladly, he doesn't question the closed door, accepting Chris' need for privacy like it is some kind of unvoiced agreement.

After the tour, Chris doesn't hesitate to push into work mode. He doesn't want to keep Darren captive in his house for too long. Chris is still confused by the contingencies that lead to his current situation, Darren agreeing to his proposal, so he isn't pushing his luck. Darren is a busy guy with a buzzing social life who must have bigger and better plans for the best date night of the week.

"Right. Before we get down to business, I could show you what I got." Chris says over his shoulder as he walks over to the sofa.

Chris hears Darren clear his throat, a suffocated cough, and he suddenly realizes the slight double entendre of his last comment. As he feels the faint blush trying to creep to his cheeks, Chris refocuses on the task at hand, sitting down on the sofa and opening his laptop.

Chris started working on the photography project a couple of months ago when he visited Clovis. The concept of the project isn't still fully defined, on a conscious level, which makes it difficult for Chris to describe his vision to Darren. For this reason, he decides to show Darren some of pictures that he has taken for the project. Chris may not be able to explain things to Darren, but he has a feeling Darren will understand.

When Chris starts the slide show, Darren sits on the sofa and leans in closer, with his shoulder almost brushing against Chris. And Chris refuses to revert to his desperate teen self who melted away at the faintest touch. He tries to ignore the dizzying proximity and to continue to explain his thought process with some of the pictures that he shows to Darren.

"... you know, capturing those silent, thoughtful moments." Chris doesn't realize that Darren's eyes are fixed on him until he turns to look at him.

"Chris, these are amazing. I've seen your work, but these pictures... not what I imagined, at all."

There is no hesitation or insincerity in Darren's voice when he serves the compliment. The way that Darren is staring at Chris with something dangerously close to open adoration makes it difficult for Chris to tear his eyes away. Chris knows he needs to say something, if only to break the spell.

"So you keep telling me." Chris says quietly.

There is a long pause where neither seems to know what to say. With the spell not fully broken, the silence drags on as Chris continues to stare into Darren's eyes.

"I have a suggestion for you." Darren starts mysteriously. "I think I have an idea what might work for the pictures. So if you let me do my thing fifteen or twenty minutes, without direction, after that I'll do _whatever_ you want. I promise."

_I'll do whatever you want._ Darren clearly has no idea what Chris truly wants, or he would have not made such a careless promise. Of course, Chris understands that whatever doesn't really mean _whatever_. Surely, Darren only wanted to indicate how he is willing to play by Chris' rules after his own moment of liberties. Although Chris would not take advantage of Darren's poor choice of words, it doesn't stop his mind from going there. Yes, Chris is definitely getting delicious, little tidbits to make his daydreams considerably more pleasing.

\---

Chris managed to capture several amazing shots during the photo shoot. In his fifteen minutes of freedom, Darren revealed a vulnerable side of himself to Chris. And having witnessed a glimpse of the vulnerability hidden within Darren, Chris wanted to see more, gently encouraging Darren to remain in this headspace. Throughout the shoot, Darren was different, more serious and thoughtful than Chris had seen him previously. It felt real, like Darren was tapping into his own emotions, projecting his subtle sadness and pain through every minute facial expression and careful move. The flicker of heart-break in Darren's eyes was so deep that it almost brought tears to Chris' eyes. Although Chris didn't know what Darren was thinking, it felt intimate somehow.

Chris is standing in front of a desk with his eyes focused on the screen, as he is transferring the pictures to his laptop. Darren is still lounging on the dark leather armchair where he had modeled for the last pictures. Chris knows Darren is staring at him. He can feel Darren's eyes following his every move. Yet, Chris doesn't dare to look back, fearing he would need to face the facts. The deal was only the photo shoot, nothing more. And now, it is over and Darren is free.

"I know you said that you could not pay me, but..." Darren trails off mysteriously and shuffles his feet grasping Chris' attention. "... but you wouldn't make a guy go home hungry? Won't you feed me?"

Chris manages to keep his surprise tightly veiled behind his usual cool. He was fully expecting Darren to disappear the minute when he was no longer needed. There are boundless opportunities in New York on a Saturday night for a handsome guy in his twenties. While Chris enjoys spending time home, he doesn't expect others to feel the same way, especially not Darren. Hanging out in the suburbs with someone who he works with can't really compete with other possibilities that Darren must have lined up. Chris never expected more than the photo shoot. Yet, Darren is asking for more, and Chris has only one answer.

"Sure. I mean, if you have time."

"Great!" Darren says with an excited grin on his face.

"I could order some Chinese... or how do you feel about leftover Italian?" Chris hesitates. "I made the sauce yesterday, but I could cook us some fresh pasta with it."

"Sounds awesome! But, I should warn you. I lived in Italy for a while, so my expectations may be high when it comes to pasta."

With his playful words and radiant smile, Darren breaks the remainders of the lingering awkwardness. Chris turns to look at Darren after closing his laptop. He is a bit amazed how at ease he feels with Darren sometimes. Outside his work role, Chris often pulls away from people, feeling too self-conscious and vulnerable. While the feelings remain within him, Chris doesn't get the desperate urge to protect himself around Darren. Something he is willing to fully contribute to Darren, despite not knowing why or how he does it.

On their way towards kitchen, Darren offers to help him with cooking, more than once, but Chris adamantly refuses. If he will fail to impress a guy with his cooking skills, it should be unequivocally his own doing. Besides, in kitchen, like with other things in life, safety first! If things can't be safe, Chris can accept controlled danger, he might even embrace it at times. Yet, handling sharp objects around Darren could be potentially dangerous, since cutting vegetable for salad and staring at certain assets is a recipe for disaster. (Assets which Chris didn't find fully exposed online despite his diligent efforts after his earlier discussion with Darren.)

Darren groans at Chris' insistence to handle kitchen duty alone, but he stays in living room, not stepping a foot inside the kitchen. Of course, Chris doesn't know whether it is much wiser to leave Darren alone in the living room, because it means he has to keep himself entertained. Darren starts with ransacking Chris' stack of CD's looking for suitable background music. When Chris hears the opening lines to Story of Us, he doesn't know whether to be more concerned about the fact that Darren chose that album or that Chris actually owns it. It doesn't stop him from silently humming along the song in the kitchen. A guilty pleasure, like the whole day!

With the food preparations largely done, Chris walks over to the dining table carrying two plated and cutlery. He looks at Darren who is getting more closely acquainted with the books in Chris' bookshelves at the back of the room. The cutlery clatter against the plates as Chris lays them on the table. Darren's startled look turns into a confused frown.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm setting up the table. The dinner is ready soon."

"I meant what you are doing at the dining table?"

Now, Chris is getting confused. "Uh, putting plates, like I said."

"Dinner should always be eaten in living room, preferably from coffee table while sitting on the floor. I mean, it's one of the biggest joys in eating at home." Darren pauses and narrows his eyes at Chris. "You eat at the dining table even when you're alone, don't you?"

Chris shrugs. "Well, yeah, sometimes."

"You're a freak." Darren laughs. "This time I'm making you sit on the floor. You need to live little, Colfer! Let loose!"

After a quick smirk, Chris huffs in an overdramatic surrender. The conversation has turned into the kind of friendly banter that usually took months to develop with a stranger. And he started working with Darren less than two weeks ago.

"Fine, but you're setting up the table." Chris says over his shoulder as he is about to return to kitchen.

"Sure, honey."

Darren's mockingly domestic voice coaxes a dimpled smile on Chris' face as he enters the kitchen again.

\---

Chris places his plate on the coffee table and sits down on the thick rug, leaning his back on the sofa and stretching his legs under the table. He takes a sip from the wine glass poured for him. Darren shortly follows to the living room with his own full plate of food. He blops down on the floor next to Chris, in a bit less graceful move, and digs in the food.

Darren exuberantly gushes over Chris' cooking skills, drawing more pink to his cheeks than the first sips of wine. Chris smiles onto his glass while trying to suppress the giddy grin of success. Yet, he enjoys every beautiful word that Darren lathers on him before they diverge to other topics.

Chris immediately falls deep into the conversation, losing track of time. The quick run of single-course dinner turns into a several hour marathon, where empty plates lie on the coffee table ignored. And even after the table is cleared, Darren isn't in a hurry to leave and Chris isn't willing to kick him out. They find their way back to living room, talking while finishing off their third glasses of wine.

They swap stories on how art had been a big part of their lives growing up and how life had led them to their current paths. Darren reveals how he got into modeling, serendipitously when he was in Italy for student exchange. Chris explains how his first fashion shoot was a chance that he had not expected, but fully embraced. A chance that quickly lead to bigger and better things. They also talk about families and friends. Darren talks about his brother and their shared love for music. Chris tells how he used to tell stories, read novels and poetry to his sister during her long hospital stays.

Some of the stories that they share are light-hearted and silly, making each other laugh. Other stories are more serious, creating pauses of delicate silence between them. They talk about everything, with great honesty and sincerity. Yet, there is something that doesn't come up. A topic that is so carefully missed as if it is deliberately avoided. After hours of conversation, relationships, past or presents, still remain behind a cloud of mystery. Chris does notice that Darren doesn't mention anyone special, no friend more than another, as he talks about his life. Yet, he doesn't ask more details, because it wouldn't matter any way.

When silence finally settles between them, with both too tired for words, it is already dark outside. In that moment, there is the soft light from the foot lamb by the sofa, two empty wine glasses on the coffee table and a cute guy next to Chris on his couch. It seems like the end of a great date, but it isn't a date. It was not a date when Darren had laughed and touched Chris' shoulder after he had said something funny or when Darren had nudged Chris' foot eager to hear more of his story. And not now, when Darren is curled up, resting his cheek against the back of the sofa and staring at Chris sleepy-eyed.

"It's getting late. I guess I should leave. I'm sure you're tired."

Chris doesn't know how to respond. There is a flash of disappointment with the realization that the night has truly reached the finish line. Yet, Darren is not his to keep, so Chris should just be thankful for the time he got and move on.

"I guess." Chris says quietly. "Thanks again for helping me with the project."

"It was my pleasure." Darren hesitates. "You know, you could do it yourself, too."

Chris narrows his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You could model, too. You have beautifully expressive features."

Chris looks away from Darren, suddenly feeling shy again. A blush rises to his cheeks. Perhaps, it's the wine. Perhaps, it's the cute guy who complimented his looks. Perhaps, it's the way Darren glanced at his nose, lips and chin when he said the words.

"I know how you can settle your debt." Darren says with a wicked smile.

"I think my brilliant dinner should have settled any debts, but I'm listening."

"Just for the sake of balance, you should let me take your pictures. I do photography myself. I'm not good like you, but I do okay."

Although he is surprised by Darren's words, Chris' nerves don't take over him. He trusts that Darren doesn't mean what he says. His comment must be just an extension to his earlier compliment. A simple line to keep the conversation flowing.

"I don't know. I think my place is behind the camera. Besides, I don't think I'd be any good."

"Perhaps, you do belong behind the camera, but being in front of camera for once could be great." Darren pauses for a moment before continuing. "Look, Chris. It's the perfect set-up. You can teach me about photography, I can teach you about modeling and all of it will help us to become better at our jobs. It's like win-win-win... endless win situation!"

Chris doesn't know why he is even considering Darren's suggestion. His place has always been behind the camera, even before his professional career. Chris avoids being on the other side of the lens, because he never feels comfortable in front of a camera and feels even less comfortable looking at his own pictures. And being photographed by a gorgeous professional model sounds crazy enough without the added pressure of simultaneously hiding his feelings for the guy. Chris doesn't quite know how he could act normal in front of camera while Darren would stare at him with those gorgeous, dark eyes.

Chris looks at Darren, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine! We'll do it someday."

There is a hint of surrender in Chris' voice. He still can't believe that Darren is serious about his suggestion. And more shockingly, Chris can't believe that he agreed to it, without a fight. Perhaps, someday Chris could do it. Or perhaps, Darren will just forget the whole thing.

"Next weekend at my place." Darren insists.

"Someday."

"Just don't make any plans you can't cancel, because I know that on Saturday, you'll be knocking on my door." Darren's voice is low, intense.

While Darren may be only teasing him, Chris fears that there might be some truth behind his last words. Consciously, Chris is still fighting against the urge to grab any opportunity to spend more time with Darren, especially considering the crazy things he would need to do with him. It's a battle he keeps losing every minute in Darren's company, falling in deeper.

After a moment, Darren sighs. "I really need to go."

Chris' eyes are fixed on Darren as he slowly gets up from the sofa stretching his limbs. There is something mesmerizing in the way he moves. When Darren turns to look at him, Chris wakes up from the haze and gets up to escort Darren to the door.

Soon, Darren is standing at the door with his back bag at his feet. Hand at the door handle, Darren turns to look at Chris with a hesitant smile.

"Thanks, Chris. I had fun."

Chris doesn't respond, fearing that he might say too much. Instead, he just looks at Darren, wanting to remember how he looks at this moment. Darren's curly hair is disheveled, after running his hand through the locks a couple of times throughout the evening. His eyes look almost black in the dim lighting, with long lashes fluttering against his cheek when he briefly glances down. His cheeks are flushed and lips red, perhaps from the wine. Darren looks beautiful, something that you could spend hours admiring.

Darren suddenly surges forward and pulls Chris close for a hug. After a flash of confusion, Chris responds by laying his arms on Darren's shoulders as Darren's arms wrap around his waist. Chris doesn't remember the last time when he was held this way, with confidence and unwavering certainty, by another man. Not a friendly, distant hug patting each other's back, but a kind of tight embrace that you never want to leave from.

As they are disentangling from the embrace, Darren's relaxed lips lightly graze Chris' cheek, the hot exhale sending tingles down the spine. Darren's hands slide from Chris' back to his sides, radiating warmth through the thin fabric. In an instant, Chris puts his right hand on the nape of Darren's neck lacing his fingers in the curls. Then, it is lips pressed against lips in a soft, but needy kiss. When Chris nips Darren's soft bottom lip between his own parted lips, he comes crashing back to reality.

The kiss ends as abruptly as it began. Chris jerks away, his heart galloping in his chest. He has no doubt that Darren's startled stare must mirror his own as they look into each other's eyes. And then, Darren is out of the door before Chris has a chance to apologize, or to lean in for another kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the memory of Darren’s soft lips against his own, Chris unconsciously licks his lips as a flutter of anticipation blooms in the pit of his stomach. And then, Darren’s wide-eyed shock that brutally yanks Chris back to reality with a suffocating tightness in his chest. Chris isn't delusional; he keeps his feet firmly planted on reality. Soon, he can put this messy situation behind him since he won't see Darren in a long, long time.

Chris spends Sunday home alone, with only a book keeping him company. The faint throbbing of his head holds him prisoner in his bed for most of the day. Perhaps, it’s for the best because his bedroom feels like the only safe place in the house. All of the other rooms are tainted with memories that Chris is running and hiding from.

The book is his desperate attempt to immerse himself in fantasy. Yet, it is a poor distraction. It doesn’t stop the vivid images of the previous night flooding to his mind every time when he closes his eyes.

The flashes of Darren’s toothy grin, the unruly lock of hair on his forehead and his fingers curled around the stem of the wine glass don't induce strong emotional responses with physiological manifestations. Unlike some other images. At the memory of Darren’s soft lips against his own, Chris unconsciously licks his lips as a flutter of anticipation blooms in the pit of his stomach. Almost like the kiss is more than just a memory. And then, Darren’s wide-eyed shock that brutally yanks Chris back to reality with a suffocating tightness in his chest.

Late Sunday night, Chris lays the book on the bed beside him, when he catches himself reading the same line over and over again. By that time, he has replayed the grand finale of the previous night enough times to soften the highs and lows of the emotional rollercoaster. Obviously, Chris can't keep his mind from reaching towards a certain guy, so he succumbs to the thoughts that he has kept pushing away. Chris might as well examine at the situation analytically, to make sense of things. Yet, the more he thinks about Darren, the less anything makes sense.

On Monday morning, Chris returns to the studio to work on another ad campaign. In an hour, the studio is at buzz with people running around in preparation for the big photo shoot. And the chaos doesn't die down when the models are on the set. Chris is no longer alone with his thoughts nor does he have too much time to worry. Still, the day feels like a long walk of shame, without the remnants of satisfactory bliss that would make the feelings of remorse and guilt at least worthwhile. Chris is just haunted by his own thoughts, since the only person who knows what happened is not there.

Chris is relieved that he doesn't need to see Darren until Friday when they have their next photo shoot scheduled. He thinks that the physical distance will give him an opportunity to come to a resolve with the situation, to find peace with his actions that resulted in the terrible lapse of judgment.

As the week progresses, the feelings of remorse and guilt don't subside. They grow stronger, more defined. And waiting for Friday becomes a slow torture. Due to the silence between them, as neither tried to contact the other after Saturday, Chris is in the dark about Darren's thoughts and feelings.

Chris isn't delusional; he keeps his feet firmly planted on reality. He knows the kiss was a mistake. An unequivocal fact to which Darren would without a doubt agree. And Chris is willing to resume all responsibility for the rash actions that led to the mistake. After all, it was his stupid crush on the guy. It was his hand on Darren's neck pulling him in for the kiss. Of course, it was only a kiss, and Darren didn't recoil at the first brush of lips or didn't seem anything beyond shocked after everything that transpired. Still, Chris was the one who stepped over the line, ignoring all personal boundaries.

Most of Wednesday, Chris plays different scenarios in his head while working, or more accurately, pretending to work while holding the camera in his hands and thinking about Darren again. He is mentally trying to prepare himself for whatever awaits him on Friday. Perhaps, Darren will be so angry with Chris that he can barely tolerate being in the same room with him, let alone work together. Perhaps, he will be so ashamed of being kissed by a guy, or a guy like Chris, that he can't even look at him. Perhaps, Darren will be so embarrassed that he pretends nothing happened, hoping Chris will do the same.

Chris takes solace in the fact that he has only two photo shoots with Darren left for the ad campaign. He can survive whatever Darren will throw his way. Soon, he can put this messy situation behind him since he won't see Darren in a long, long time. Maybe never, unless something else will pull them together again. Of course, this knowledge doesn't quiet his mind or lessen his stress, not enough anyway.

By Thursday afternoon, Chris is tired of continuously analyzing the events of the past weekend. Physically, he is in the studio working on photo shoot, but his mind keeps slipping somewhere else. He barely even notices when a guy is flirting with him during the photo shoot. A cute guy with dark blond hair, light blue eyes hiding behind dark-rimmed glasses and great style, a combination of nerdy cool in his graphic T-shirt and blazer. The kind of guy who Chris wouldn’t mind asking out. He can’t, he won’t because of Darren, so he puts his focus back on his work. 

And then, Chris realizes that he is willingly missing an opportunity for romance, or at least a diversion from the dullness of life, because of one straight guy who might have, at best, allowed Chris to kiss him in his slightly intoxicated haze last weekend. Chris wonders if he is, in some twisted way, saving himself for Darren. Saving for what, he doesn't know. Instead of waiting for the impossible, Chris could possibly kiss this cute guy next weekend who might even allow him to do more than just kiss, much more.

Chris waits, regardless of his new-found determination not to allow opportunities to slip through his fingers. The guy stays by his side for most of the photo shoot, repeatedly glancing at him and engaging in conversation with him between the takes. And Chris waits until they are momentarily left alone after the shoot.

Chris turns to look at the guy. "Would you like to go to dinner with me this weekend if you're free?"

“Of course, I’d be happy to.” The guy replies with a smile.

And with the choice of words and the bright smile, Chris suddenly finds himself trapped by memories again. A week ago, he was sitting at the diner, losing himself in the beautiful hazel eyes across the table. Chris remembers his timid plea for assistance and the friendly reply that were the first steps towards the current messy situation. Looking at this guy in front of him, Chris feels the blistering frustration on the hold that Darren still has over him.

Chris determinately pushes Darren out of his mind, focusing on the cute guy who would be happy to go out with him. “Great! How about Saturday at six? I could pick you up.”

\---

On Friday morning, Chris is the first person at the studio, with other crew members coming shortly after him. He is adjusting the lights at the set when Darren arrives. They share a few shy glances and quick nods of greetings across the space before Darren disappears to the back room. Their exchange was slightly awkward, but Chris isn't staggered by it. He can do awkward; he has done it for most of his life due to his limited social skills and quirky sense of humor. And he acknowledges that things with Darren could be a lot worse.

When Darren comes to the set about half an hour later, Chris takes a couple of test shots with him before the real work begins. Although Darren is the only model in the photo shoot, they are never left alone in the studio due to assistants, make-up artists and stylists hovering near. Being surrounded by other people could make things more uncomfortable, but it doesn't. Chris is surprised to notice how things aren't actually that awkward between Darren and him. Not even when they utter their first words to each other after the fateful events right there, in front of the watchful eyes of other people.

During the photo shoot, they are friendly towards each other; Darren takes Chris' suggestions and Chris gives Darren his gentle guidance. It's almost like nothing happened. Almost. There is a polite distance between them, which is something that they never really had, or at least haven't had in the past couple of photo shoots for the ad campaign. And Darren seems quiet, more drawn back than Chris has seen him since their photo shoot at the beach. Of course, Chris managed to coax out Darren's wild-and-free side by the end of that photo shoot. While a part of Chris wants to do the same this time as well, he knows it isn't a good idea. Chris knows that the distance is protecting them from further damage and it would allow them to get through these two remaining photo shoots.

When the photo shoot is finally finished, Darren scurries off to the back room before Chris has a change to say anything to him, not that he would have known what to say anyway. Chris shouldn't be affected by Darren's actions. He can't spend next days, again, analyzing everything that happened or didn't happen. The only way to keep Darren away from his mind is to busy himself with other things.

Chris is sitting by his desk and going through his work emails when Darren quietly approaches him fifteen or twenty minutes later. Chris doesn't look at him. He still knows it is Darren. He can hear the restless shuffle of the feet behind him over the chatter and laughter of people across the room.

"So, Chris... Are we still on for Saturday?"

Chris knew that a moment would come when he would be left alone with Darren. He had prepared himself for this moment imagining what Darren might say to him. And any of the hundred conversations Chris had played in his mind didn't include the words Darren just said in his low, hushed voice. Darren's question caught Chris by surprise, but he makes sure not to show it. Chris' fingers still on the keyboard, as he searches for the right words.

"Sorry. I can't."

Chris remains focused on the words at the screen. He can't turn around, fearing his brittle determination would collapse at the sight of the beautiful eyes. While he can avoid looking at Darren, making it easier to say what he needed to say, he can't stop feeling bad for giving him the cold shoulder. Yet, he knows that being with Darren alone for an extended period of time is not wise. Chris knew it already when he made sure to have other plans for the day.

"Oh, okay." Darren says quietly.

There is a moment of silence between them. Chris thinks that everything is said and done, before Darren continues.

"Well, if your plans change, you can just drop by unannounced or whatever. I'll be home whole day anyway." Darren says taking his mobile out of his pocket. "I'll text you my address just in case."

Chris' mobile vibrates on the desk with the incoming message. Chris doesn't touch it, he doesn't look at Darren who lingers next to him. Chris goes back to writing the email he had started earlier. And soon, Darren murmurs his goodbyes. After Darren has left, Chris takes his mobile and deletes the message, not without glancing it first. Chris might be determined to keep distance from Darren, but even his determination has its limits.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris isn't sure whether he is at the right place. The name at the door is a match, but he isn't sure if he made the right choice. Chris is is still hesitating over his decision and seriously considers sneaking away in silence. He can't. The decision has been made. Chris wonders whether there truly was a choice to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I just can't edit certain things out, I don't want to, so things become longer than expect. And in this case, it meant cutting the passage into two chapters, instead of keeping it as one chapter as originally intended. On a happier note, the second part of this passage needs only final touches, so it will be uploaded soon. Before that, I hope you enjoy this chapter and drop me a comment before you hurry off to read other things.

Chris frowns as he stands there staring at the horrendous green apartment door. He isn't sure whether he is at the right place. It isn't even the first door that Chris stood in front of on that day. The name at the door is a match, but he isn't sure if he made the right choice.

Feeling nervous, Chris fishes his phone from the pocket. After a quick glance at the door, he scrambles to find the message. The address of the cute guy who was flirting with him just two days ago. He is cute, he is fun _and_ he is interested in Chris. It really shouldn't be this difficult.

Chris is still hesitating over his decision and considers quietly sneaking away. He can't. He takes a deep breath in and gives a bold knock on the door. Chris hears the rushed steps behind the door. And when the door suddenly flies open, Chris' heart skips a beat.

"Oh, hey."

Chris frowns again, or perhaps, he just didn't stop frowning, as he stares into the eyes behind the dark-rimmed glasses. His confusion is transferring to the man in front of him. And then, there's a flash of enlightenment.

"Blind as a bat. I usually wear contacts in public." Darren says with a laugh, adjusting his glasses a bit.

Darren's laugh is brief, flowing from deep within his chest. He is wearing a ratty T-shirt with a university logo, light jeans and no socks or shoes. His curly hair is wild, like he had ran his hand through it several times, and the stubble on his jaw looks at least day old. Darren looks different, kind of cute, not quite the usual knock-you-off-your-feet-stunning. Adorable in the way that pulls on your heart strings rather than stirs something much lower.

Darren must have caught Chris giving him a once-over. With an amused smile, he opens the door wider and steps aside. "C'on in."

Chris enters the apartment, knowing that he has passed the point of no return. As he takes off his jacket and shoes, Chris attempts to find his equilibrium by reminding himself that he shouldn't make this day more difficult than it needs to be. It's not like Chris hasn't spent time with the source of delicious daydreams earlier. And they are just hanging out, like last Saturday at his house. Chris swallows hard, remembering how last time ended.

The decision has been made. Chris wonders whether there truly was a choice to begin with. This thing with Darren is like gravity pulling him near, except Chris knows how gravity works. This force leaves him confused, or filled with inappropriate feelings.

Because Chris doesn't fully understand what happened, or why he fell so deep and why he still keeps falling deeper, it isn't something he could compartmentalize, analyze neatly away. Chris' feelings seemed be built upon a collections of small, intangible things. Perhaps, it was the infectiousness of his smile. Perhaps, it was the excitement in his eyes when he talked about things that mattered. Perhaps, it was the way he laughed at his jokes, even the lame ones, or the way he truly listened to him, encouraging him to share more of his thoughts. Perhaps, many more things that Chris doesn't even recognize, making it almost impossible to resist.

Darren leads Chris to the living room, turning to look at him. "I would give you the grand tour of the apartment, but there isn't much to see."

Chris stands next to Darren, taking in everything at his sight. The apartment is big, bright and colorful, not in an overly dramatic way, but bold and tasteful. Suddenly, the green door doesn't seem so horrendous anymore; it was just an extension of everything inside. The deep burgundy sofa could seem slightly provocative, like stolen from courtesan's boudoir, but as a part of the whole room, it belonged there somehow. And it lived in perfect harmony with the vintage Star Wars poster on the opposite wall. From his vantage point, Chris could see that the whole apartment, or at least the living room and kitchen, seemed to be fulfilled with these kinds of quirky details and mismatches of things that worked together.

Chris' eyes drift to Darren as he realizes how the apartment is a representation of its owner. In the past weeks, Chris has seen multiple different sides of Darren; the hyperactive people person, the sensitive artist, the playful flirt. Just like the apartment, the beautiful parts of the man work together making an irresistible whole. And Chris believes there is still more to see.

Darren catches Chris looking at him again and gives him a knowing smirk which makes a faint blush rise on Chris' cheeks.

"Would you like some coffee, juice or beer? Or something?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay." Darren pauses. "Then, should we just get started?"

Chris looks around the room feeling a bit lost. He is already nervous, and Darren doesn't even have a camera at his hands yet.

"So, where do you want me?"

"In my bedroom." Darren says with a hint of a flirty smile.

Chris manages to suffocate the gasp and remain on his feet which he considers a partial victory, despite his current rapidly blushing, weak-kneed condition. Darren wants _him_ in his bedroom. Chris is half-expecting that he will wake up alone in his bed with a throbbing sense of disappointment because this must be an elaborate introduction to a wet dream. When he is sure that he is fully awake, Chris convinces himself that he must have heard wrong. It doesn't stop him from staring at Darren in a full-blown shock.

"The lighting is best there at this time of the day." Darren says, as if it would be enough to calm his nerves.

\---

As Chris follows Darren down the dim hallway in silence, his eyes continuously keep gravitating to the tempting sway of the hips in front of him, despite his attempt in self-control. By the time they reach the bedroom door, Chris is flustered, heart pounding in his chest. And the knowledge where they will be spending time, regardless of the activity, only makes things worse. Chris stifle the sigh of relief at the realization that Darren is already too busy fiddling with his camera to pay attention to Chris entering the room. At least he will have a moment to gather himself.

Chris glances around the bedroom. The room is less colorful than the rest of the apartment, muted down with white, grey and light blue. The afternoon sun is flooding to the room from the large windows. And there is a stab of disappointment when Chris realizes that there truly was no ulterior motive in Darren leading him to the bedroom. Of course, he knew that from the beginning.

Chris tries to avoid looking at the bed, but he can't ignore it. A king-size bed rumpled from the slumber of previous night. The blanket on the left side of the bed lies bundled towards the center revealing the wrinkled sheets. The right side of the bed is pristinely untouched. No company last night, it seems, or at least the kind that would have made it to bed. When his thoughts go from sweet to sour in seconds, Chris realizes how wildly inappropriate, and unwise, it is for him to think about Darren and the bed at this moment. And he stops.

When the camera set-up is done, Darren turns to look at Chris, examining him from head to toe. A wave of warm excitement coils at the pit of Chris' stomach. He feels like a cliché from an obnoxious love song where just one look or touch is enough to bring on the butterflies and more. A desperate character from a pop song, probably something that Katy Perry would sing about.

A small crease forms between Darren's brows and the silence weights heavy between them, and Chris starts feeling self-conscious. He is wearing a light blue denim button-up with sleeves rolled past his elbows and light gray jeans. And Chris spent more time styling his hair to perfection than he'd care to admit. Still, he can't help but feel insecure, he hates it. He hates that every small thing that Darren says or does affects him so profoundly.

Chris wonders whether Darren is changing his mind perhaps after realizing that Chris is not worth his time or efforts. He is about to suggest that they would just forget the silly plan when Darren speaks up first.

"I think something is missing."

After ransacking his dresser, Darren walks over to Chris, staring at him with a hint of smile on his lips. He quickly drops something on the bed beside them, but Chris' eyes stay on Darren's face. Chris is held captive by the closeness, the radiating warmth and intoxicating smell of the man in front of him. He is tempted to close his eyes and just breathe in the bliss. The more Chris' mind keeps slipping into dangerous territories with Darren, the more he feels the need to control himself. But control comes hand-in-hand with tension which Chris can't hide from Darren.

"Just relax." Darren says, placing his hand on Chris' shoulder.

Chris lowers his gaze to the floor and lets out an exhale. Darren drops his hand sliding it down Chris' arm before taking something from the bed. Chris doesn't look at Darren. He can't.

Chris can feel the brush of Darren's fingers on the sensitive skin under his jaw as Darren carefully wraps a scarf around Chris' neck. When Chris dares to look up, or feels forced to when the touch becomes too much and still not enough, he finds Darren staring directly at him with a look that Chris can't quite decipher. Darren takes Chris' left hand placing it on his shoulder, Chris' finger tips resting at Darren's clavicle. The eye contact remains unbroken as Darren fastens a black leather cuff on Chris' wrist.

When Darren goes back to his camera, Chris is left catching his breath. As if Darren's smell from the scarf is not enough, the memory of his touch lingers on Chris' skin. A touch light like a tickle on his neck and wrist. And it still wasn't what made Chris breathless. Does Darren know what he is doing to Chris? Does he know what it means for a guy like him to wear a leather cuff in his left wrist? Chris can't think all of it, pushing the thoughts aside. Not that Darren got it wrong, not really anyway.

With the beginning of the photo shoot, Chris quickly learns that Darren is attentive and considerate as a photographer. He gives some direction, being as specific as possible, and lathers on plenty of encouragements and compliments. Between the shots, Darren talks to Chris continuously in a low, calming voice. He talks about mindless, trivial things. And Chris feels his nerves dissipate as he slowly eases into his role.

After a dozen or so shots, Darren lowers his camera and looks at Chris for a moment.

"Let's change things around a bit." Darren says leaving his camera on the dresser and comes near Chris. "Just trust me. Okay?"

Before Chris has a chance to answer, Darren removes the scarf laying it on the bed and looks at Chris with an ensuring smile. Then, Darren starts opening the buttons of Chris' denim shirt. And Chris immediately tenses.

Chris doesn't look at Darren; he is too close, the moment is too intense. But it doesn't matter anyway since Darren's eyes are on his chest, working together with his fingers. Chris tries to focus on anything else, except Darren's hand's moving lower and lower on his body. He is wearing a tank top underneath, so at least each opened button is not revealing bare skin, at least there is no skin-on-skin contact.

After the last button is opened, Chris finds the courage to look into Darren's eyes. He is no longer halted by the fear, at least for a moment, that Darren will discover his carefully concealed feelings. One photo shoot after today, only one more! And he can live through it even if Darren would know. Besides, it's not like things could get much more difficult than they are at the moment, or so Chris thought.

If Chris sighed in relief, it would have been premature. Darren pushes the denim shirt open and curls his fingers on the thin fabric of the tank top beneath. The fingers briefly ghost over the bare skin of Chris' lower abdomen, just above the waistband of his jeans, when Darren yanks the top from the jeans allowing it to fall over the waistband. A brief, careless touch that Chris' body responds to, but only after it's already gone.

"Okay. We're good to go." Darren says over his shoulder returning to his previous position with the camera.

When they continue shooting, Darren asks Chris to look away from the camera, turning his head slightly to his left. If staring straight into the camera and seeing the man behind it without getting flustered was difficult, this is no easier. When Chris does what was so gently requested, all he can see is Darren’s bed. The bed where Darren sleeps every night, or at least many nights. The bed where he lies gasping, groaning and moaning with pleasure.

Darren lowers his camera and asks. "Do you trust me?"

_Too much._ Chris thinks, but can't say that. "Maybe."

"I'm going to suggest something. And it's totally okay for you to say no, but I kind of hope you won't because I know it'll be good, _so good_."

And Darren does it again; just as Chris was starting to believe that perhaps he can survive the photo shoot, Darren says something that completely throws Chris off. The way Darren said the last words in a deep, sultry voice made a wave of hot want run through Chris' body, pooling behind his lower abdomen. Yet, there is dread because Darren, the guy who seems fearless, confident and up-to-anything, is approaching the topic so carefully.

"I want you to take off your shirt. Both of them." As if Darren senses his hesitation, he continues. "Look. These pictures are for your and my eyes only. And I want to show you what it is like to be a model. Sometimes, it is about going past your comfort zone."

To say that Chris is surprise would be an understatement. Shocked beyond words would be closer to truth. Darren is asking Chris to be half-naked, in front of him, in his bedroom. Chris doesn't know how to respond. Chris wants to say that they already passed his comfort zone the moment Darren invited him to his bedroom. He doesn't say it.

"We will take only a couple of shots. Max ten. Then, we can go and order some Chinese or a pizza and listen to music, or whatever you want. Okay?" Darren says.

Chris is standing at a crossroads. A gorgeous guy, yes, maybe straight, but still gorgeous, is asking him to take his shirt off. He is asking, not because he has to, but because he wants Chris to take it off for whatever reason. Chris is at a crossroads and he needs to choose the direction without knowing where it will lead him.

"Okay."

Chris' voice is small, barely audible. He averts his eyes; he can't do this staring into Darren's eyes and he knows Darren won't look away. Chris notices his fingers visibly shaking as he slowly starts peeling off his denim shirt. He doesn't understand why he is nervous. He's not some blushing virgin, he's a grown man who has successfully gotten topless before in front of another man, even in a bedroom. Of course, the removal of shirts usually happened between hungry kisses, in a fervent frenzy in which both sides were too eager to see each other naked.

By the time Chris drops the shirt on the bed, Darren is standing in front of him the camera laid abandoned on the bed. Darren wraps his fingers at the hem of Chris' tank top and pulls it off, his fingertips grazing Chris' sides. When Chris' brain registers the light touch, his eyes flutter shut and a shiver runs down his spine. At least, he manages to strangle the needy whimper. This is too much, this is too dangerous.

After a moment, Chris opens his eyes and Darren is already at a safe distance, fiddling with the camera in his hands.

Darren looks up at him. "Okay, Chris. Ten shots and we're done. Only ten shots, so let's make them count."

When the photo shoot continues, two rather miraculous things occur. First, Darren doesn't say anything about the deep blush evident on Chris' cheeks. Chris isn't foolish enough to assume that Darren doesn't notice, because he must since Chris' cheeks feel hot and his ears are burning up. If anything, Darren makes the process easier for him, giving him space to calm himself down by not engaging him like previously. He doesn't even ask Chris to look towards the camera until at the last shot. Second miracle creeps in as a surprise; with the final shot, the photo shoot is over and Chris somehow managed to survive it.

After the tenth shot, Darren lowers the camera and lets out a short, shaky laugh. "And we're done. So Chinese or pizza?"

Chris scrambles to put his shirts on, but leaves the tank top untucked and the denim shirt open. He quietly looks at the black leather cuff still on his wrist. As Chris lifts his right hand fingers to it, to remove it, Darren's soft voice stops him.

"No, you keep it. Suits you better." Darren says with a tender smile on his lips. "Consider it your salary for your modeling gig."

And there, it is again, that look on Darren's eyes that Chris doesn't know how to interpret. After a moment of tension and silence between them, Chris can't stop the smile spreading on his face.

"I must have not been very good if this is all I get."

"You were great. You are gorgeous." Darren says and continues with a laugh. "But what do you expect to get for pics I won't use anyway?"

"Who knows what you will do with my pics at the privacy of your own home?" Chris replies with a smirk, as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt.

When Chris looks up and catches Darren's eyes, he wants to bite off his tongue, realizing that the cheeky, flirty words actually slipped out. He realizes that the words were directed to Darren and that he must have heard them. He wants to bite of his tongue, or hide under the bed in embarrassment, or possibly both.

Darren just bursts laughing. "Yeah, who knows!"

Chris' cheeks are burning, but he manages a shy smile looking at Darren. Then, Darren just looks at Chris with a smile.

"Come on, Colfer. Let's get something to eat."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Chris, I think we need to talk about something." There is something that they could talk about, but Chris isn't sure whether they should. With each passing day, the kiss that they had shared only a week ago is floating further into the past; the mixed emotions are becoming easier to accept, the need in him easier to deal with and the tension between them easier to ignore.

Chris sits on the sofa with an empty Chinese take-out box in his lap, watching Darren who is still finishing his own. He leans forward to place the box on the sofa table and takes a sip from his can of diet Coke. Chris declined when Darren had offered wine or beer. Previous experiences proved, if nothing else, that being mildly intoxicated around Darren leads him to do foolish things. And this night, Chris is taking no risks.

"Chris, I think we need to talk about something. We can’t avoid it forever."

As the words sink in, Chris immediately freezes. There is something that they could talk about, but Chris isn’t sure whether they should. With each passing day, the kiss that they had shared only a week ago is floating further into the past; the mixed emotions are becoming easier to accept, the need in him easier to deal with and the tension between them easier to ignore. After the kiss, Darren hadn’t contacted him, outside of work, but neither had Chris. (On previous Sunday night and again on Monday, Chris sat on his bed staring at a text message, a written apology, that he wanted to send to Darren, but something had stopped him both times, nerves or common sense.) Now, the kiss is too far into the past. He is understandably reluctant to approach this discussion.

"Okay." Chris says quietly, briefly glancing away from Darren.

Darren looks at Chris with a smile which relaxes Chris, but only a bit. Nothing feels safe with Darren, not because of Darren, but because of Chris himself. He may have survived the photo shoot, baring more than he planned to, but he still can't trust himself around the guy.

"You have an addiction, my man." Darren says, looking pointedly at the can in Chris’ hand. "Those seem to follow you everywhere."

"Yeah, it was either this or drugs." Chris says placing the can back on the table. "Some of us need a bit of help, since we all can't be high on life, like you."

Chris quickly glances at Darren catching his unthinking words. Previously, he has found himself in an awkward situation, more than once, when a stranger or a new acquaintance hasn't quite understood his sense of humor. Chris has learned to be careful, he should be careful around Darren. But after a moment, Darren just laughs. And it wasn't even that witty.

Chris instinctively knows that the talk won't happen. Darren will allow the past to remain in the past, and Chris won't be the one to bring it up either. A part of him hates himself for the cowardice; he has been through a lot in his life, he doesn't understand why just talking with a guy could be difficult. Yet, it's not about being afraid.

There is a brittle calm between them that Chris doesn't want to disturb. As long as they stay in that place, regardless of its uncertainty, he doesn't have to let go of the dream. He doesn't want to crush the silly, silly what-ifs with the harsh reality. It's a dream Chris secretly, a bit unwillingly, allows himself to nurture until Darren is out of his life. And soon, it will be over.

When Darren puts his empty take-out box on the table, Chris takes another sip from his diet Coke, allowing his eyes to roam around the room. He notices an acoustic guitar leaning against the wall in the corner of the living room and remembers how passionately Darren has talked about music earlier.

"I remember you said that you used to play drums in your brother's band, but you play guitar as well?" Chris says, looking at the instrument.

"Yeah, I do." Darren says. "Just another way to keep myself busy."

Chris looks at Darren and can't stop a smile creeping to his lips. "Are you any good?"

"I guess I'm okay. Better than with drums." Darren shrugs, ignoring the playful taunt in Chris' voice as much as his eyes.

Chris doesn't know if he said something wrong. Suddenly, Darren seems avoidant somehow. He's not eagerly delving into a rambling monologue with sparkling eyes, like he tends to do when he's excited about something, but he's not completely shutting down either. And looking the darkness slowly starting to settle outside, Chris wonders whether he should leave. With the dinner is finished, there is no reason to stay. Yet, he can't leave.

"And have you played long?" Chris says softly.

"Yes, I have." Darren says turning his eyes on Chris. "I do small gigs every now and then, you know, at bars or pubs, nothing big. But I'm not quitting my day job any day soon."

And the way that Darren is looking at him, Chris knows that his walls are coming down. Any reserve that Darren momentarily had is gone. Chris wishes he could let Darren, or anyone else for that matter, as easily in, but he doesn't.

"I've always enjoyed fashion, even before it became a career. But the cool thing about music is that no one can take music away from you." Darren looks away and pauses to think before continuing. "It's here when I come back home from a photo shoot, a fashion show or even when I come from a restaurant or a bar. It's available whenever I need it. It takes me as I am. There aren't many people in my life that I could say the same about."

Chris often pulls away from other people, sometimes even from close friends, because he doesn't quite know how to share his true self with others and how to be close without becoming consumed by fear. While he has escaped the torment of his youth, being bullied and harassed for years lefts its mark on him. New York has been kind to him, but old habits die hard. He still keeps his distance, safely alone within the walls he built, even if it means feeling lonely. He accepts it.

Chris knows that he is different and that loneliness is his burden to bear. He had assumed Darren wouldn't feel same way vulnerable around other people, being this effervescent people person who can easily establish new connections with strangers. The quiver in Darren's voice and the look on his face suggest something quite different. Once again, Chris finds himself adjusting his perception of Darren. The realization makes him wonder what other wrong assumptions he may have made about the guy. (And the realization doesn't come without guilt and shame; isn't Chris doing the same thing to Darren as others have done to him, applying ill-fitting, unjustified preconceptions on the guy, even if it is to protect himself?)

"There is family, and there are some friends." Darren says and smiles lost in his thoughts for a moment before looking at Chris again. "But sometimes, it's just not enough."

"Yeah, I know." Chris says quietly.

"I mean, it's always important to recognize your situation and not take it for granted. I'm lucky. I have great life." Darren says seriously, and then as if he wakes up from his thoughts, he laughs a bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get so heavy on you."

"No, I get it. Being lucky doesn't mean that you have everything. And having enough doesn't mean that you stop wanting more."

Darren doesn't respond. He just shares a gentle smile with Chris before reaching out for his water bottle on the table.

\---

If there is a lull in the conversation at the end of dinner, they get over it pretty quickly. They continue to talk, traipsing from topic to topic as the evening turns into a night. And then, it's almost pitch black outside, or it would be without the street lights of the city that never sleeps. The room isn't much brighter. The lamp on the end table next to the sofa is the only source of light; all others seemed too far away. After they had settled on the couch, neither felt inclined to move.

Chris has noticed an intriguing evolution with Darren; as the night progressed, Darren got increasingly relaxed. Darren ate his dinner, primly sitting at the opposite end of the sofa. But an hour or two ago, he discarded his glasses on the table saying that he can see just fine if he is close enough. Darren scooted closer to Chris and flung his arm over the back of the sofa. And Darren stayed that way, only twisting his body towards Chris and curling his leg on the sofa between them. The way Darren slightly squinted his eyes and crinkled his nose at times when he looked at him made Chris suspect that Darren is still too far. But Chris wouldn't ask him to come closer, with an equilibrium to maintain and all. And a lap full of hot boy might be rather detrimental to it. For security purposes, Chris keeps himself at the other end of the sofa with his feet firmly planted on the ground, in more ways than one.

When Chris leans over to place his third empty can of diet Coke on the sofa table, the amused twitch in the corner of Darren's mouth doesn't escape Chris. He narrows his eyes at Darren who gives into the taunting smirk but doesn't say anything. Perhaps, Chris has some minor substance abuse issues with the damn soft drink. But the present entrancing company definitely doesn't help Chris to gain back control. Chris almost gets into a long-winded internal debate, the chicken or the egg kind, contemplating which is the addition and which the trigger, diet Coke and Darren. He quickly abandons the line of thought with the determination that he wouldn't call Darren an addiction, not quite yet anyway. Chris still feels the need to keep caffeinated for Darren; he can't afford to appear sleepy-eyed since it might get him sent home.

Interestingly, the metaphorical tables have turned in a week. This time, Chris isn't in a hurry to leave and Darren isn't kicking him out, so Chris stays there sitting next to Darren. But he can't help feeling a bit selfish for overextending his welcome. With the clock ticking further past midnight, every minute brings them only nearer to the end.

"I think I..." Chris starts after he sees Darren suffocating a yawn.

_I think I should go._ Chris tries to say, but the words get lodged in his throat. Suddenly, he remembers that he will see Darren only once after this night. It hits him hard.

In four days, they will have their last photo shoot for the fashion ad campaign. And it won't be a small-scale shoot at the studio just with Darren and the crew, but instead a big spectacle with several models and a larger crew in the streets of New York. Neither of them has said a word about what would happen after the last photo shoot. They have been friendly, at times, during this work relationship, but it doesn't mean anything. In four days, Chris will say his last goodbye to his not-really-a-friend in a crowded set, expecting never to see him again, except perhaps in passing in an industry event.

Thinking about the end makes Chris look back on everything that has happened; their disastrous first photo shoot, the mended fences, the sweet moments during the photo shoots, the kiss that was never meant to be shared and, most recently, the way that Darren made Chris' cheeks burn stripping him half-naked in his bedroom.

With his heart pounding, Chris accepts the finality. It comes with a panicky tightness in his chest. The end he had been waiting for, in order to get relief for his poor confused heart, he no longer desires.

And then, Chris knows. It's not a silly, little infatuation. Not anymore. It's something more. Something that Chris hasn't felt in a long time. (Perhaps, something he is still not ready to name.) And the realization makes his heart beat faster.

Still reeling from the revelation, Chris turns to look at Darren. The sudden emergence of truth makes Chris more vulnerable under Darren's eyes; for the first time, Chris feels open in front of him, not stopping to think, control or hide. If Darren asked, Chris would tell him everything. If Darren looked, really looked, he would see everything. In this moment, Chris is holding nothing back.

Darren lifts his hand to briefly rub the skin at the curve of his own neck. When Darren's hand leaves, falling back to his lap, Chris' eyes don't. His eyes stay there, tempted by the exposed skin. Chris notices the black strand of a necklace, peaking from under the T-shirt. As his eyes trace the string down, they sink into the dip at the bottom of the throat from where the two clavicles fan out. Chris' fingers tingle at the memory of resting against the bone. What would it be like to push the shirt aside and press his lips against it instead? Would Darren breathe heavier as Chris' mouth would worship the stretch of bare skin?

Regardless of everything that he is allowing himself to feel, there's a hint of guilt when Chris acknowledges how eagerly his eyes devour Darren. It's wrong and it's dangerous to look at Darren this way. When Chris lifts his eyes to Darren's face, he sees a sweet, tender smile lingering on Darren's mouth. Darren isn't staring into his eyes, not returning the gaze. His eyes are on Chris' lips. And there is a familiar hunger in Darren's eyes that makes Chris' heart pound faster.

Darren slowly leans in, brushing his lips against Chris' in an off-center, tentative kiss. It's feathery light, barely there, not demanding anything, not asking for more. An untethered kiss that drifts away, perhaps accidentally slipping out of reach, because nothing is holding it down, nothing keeping it near. Chris stays there, eyes closed, fighting the urge to chase after the kiss as Darren's lips are still there, still so close. And he waits in silence. Waiting for what, he doesn't know until it happens. Feeling Darren's hot exhale against his mouth, Chris surges in for another kiss. And to his surprise, Darren doesn't back off.

The second kiss is unlike the first kiss; there is no hesitation or uncertainty. It starts chaste, just lips against lips. But before Chris has the chance to deepen it, Darren is kissing him back. The parted lips softly nibble on Chris' bottom lip as a warm hand is placed on his cheek, partially cupping his ear. The temptation makes Chris sway a little closer, press into the kiss a little harder.

It has been a long time, since Chris has been kissed light-headed in this way. He doesn't need much to want more. The scrape of stubble on Chris' sensitive skin sends shiver down his spine. When Darren lifts his other hand on Chris' arm, slowly thumbing his triceps through the thin layer of fabric, Chris is falling deeper into the want. He can't stop himself. Chris slides his hand on the nape of Darren's neck and pulling him in. And Darren complies. He tilts his head slightly, his nose pressed against Chris' cheek, as the kiss becomes more demanding, more intense.

It is still just lips against lips, wet and parted lips in a hard press of a kiss, until Darren pulls away slightly. The tip of Darren's tongue traces Chris' bottom lip before retreating. An invitation for more which Chris accepts with a sharp, shaky inhale. Chris sweeps his tongue between Darren's lips, and there is a brief moment of hesitation before he slips it inside Darren's mouth. And his tongue quickly finds what it was looking for.

Darren shifts a little without breaking the kiss. Realizing Darren's leg is no longer between them, Chris pushes his chest against Darren, trying to get closer. He still feels he can't get close enough. Chris is rapidly becoming so aroused that he fears nothing will feel close enough.

And then, Darren's hand isn't there anymore, gently caressing Chris' arm. Before a disappointment settles in, Chris feels the hand on his waist, snaked inside the open denim shirt. The warmth from the palm seeps through the thin tank top. The careful touch feels too much, too intimate.

Chris breaks the kiss, pulling away. His lashes flutter against his cheek for a moment before he looks up. Darren is staring at him, almost pupils fully blown. Chris tries to resist. He knows this isn't right, this isn't how things are supposed to be. When Darren nips Chris' bottom lip between his teeth, Chris knows he is losing the battle. A simple gesture that spurs Chris into action.

Chris puts his hand on the back of the couch lifting to his knee and scrambles to climb on Darren's lap. Before he is even fully settled, straddling Darren's thighs, Chris crowds him in with another kiss, hungrier than earlier, if possible. Darren tilts his face slightly up and opens his jaw wider, allowing Chris to take full control of the kiss. And Chris does with almost everything he has; his lips, his tongue, his teeth. Only Chris' hands stay on the back of the sofa behind Darren, trying to keep himself grounded.

But Darren isn't so coy with his hands. Chris feels Darren's fingers splay on his lower back as soon as their tongues meet. Darren isn't coy with anything, because he is eagerly responding to every press of lips, every swipe of tongue. And it becomes a dance where they keep pushing each other further in a tantalizing haze. When Chris wraps his arms around Darren's neck, Darren's hands slowly glide lower, bracketing his hips. Chris shifts slightly on Darren's lap, arching his chest tighter against Darren's.

And then, Darren slides his hand slightly up, caressing the bare skin in the small of Chris' back just under his tank top. Chris can't believe it. The touch of the hot palm on the bare skin coaxes out a needy whimper, Darren's or his own, Chris couldn't tell. He is more than half-hard, he is slowly losing control. Chris tries to resist the need to press into Darren harder, to move in his lap. He really tries to resist it all.

With Chris' moment of hesitation, there is a shift of power as Darren takes charge of the kiss, nibbling Chris' lips with his teeth and pressing his lips against Chris' harder. Chris waits for Darren to slip his tongue into his mouth, but he doesn't. Instead, Darren leaves a trail of kisses on Chris' cheek and jaw as his hands move lower, fingers being tucked under Chris' thighs. And suddenly, Chris is not at all missing Darren's tongue in his mouth. The grip on his legs tightens, hauling him closer, when Darren's hot lips find the sensitive skin of the neck just under Chris' ear. Chris can only lean his head back, eyes closed, enjoying everything with a breathy sigh or two.

With the nip of the teeth on the skin, Chris can't stay still anymore. He starts slowly, deliciously grinding against Darren, his hips moving of their own volition in this heady need. And Darren is pushing his hips up to meet every thrust. Only the layers of clothing muffle the sensation.

When Chris feels his cock straining against the tightness of his jeans, he abruptly breaks the kiss. His mind is finally catching up to his body, realizing what is going on. Chris looks at Darren, probably with pure terror in his own eyes, and quickly puts his hands on the back of the sofa again, careful not to touch the guy more than necessary. Darren's hair is beautifully disheveled, his lips are perfectly red and his eyes... His gorgeous hazel eyes, pupils fully blown, are peering at Chris through the haze with a half-lidded gaze. Darren looks almost debauched, and so painfully beautiful that stopping before it's too late, fighting against his urges, is tearing Chris apart.

"I-I'm sorry." Chris whispers with a strangled voice. "I shouldn't have."

When Chris hurriedly pushes himself off Darren's lap, almost stumbling back, Darren makes the smallest frustrated groan at the back of his throat. But Chris rushes out of the room, without a word, without looking back at Darren. He flees the apartment, barely stopping to grab his jacket and shoes at the door, before Darren has a chance to stop him. And when the apartment door slams shut behind him, he doesn't stop to wait if Darren would come after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt to write soft smut, so be gentle with your comments. ;) I hope you enjoyed the chapter. And after this, only two chapters left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris remembers the young boy who secretly believed in love at first sight and all the silly, little things that gave him the momentary escapes from reality. But he is no longer that boy. The man he has become knows that hearts are broken more easily than they are mended. It was years and years ago, but it left a wound that refuses to fully heal. He had fallen in love, accidentally, foolishly and for the first time in his life. It really was fun, until it wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some surprises on the way while writing the remaining chapters. I added a previously unplanned scene and extended a couple of other scenes, increasing the word count. Thus, the final scene was pushed into an "epilogue". All of his means that there is still two chapters remaining. And the next chapter will be published on Sunday.

Sometimes, Chris misses the romanticism of his youth when he lived in the dreams, in pages of the stories that he read on nights spent by his sister's hospital bed. He remembers the young boy who secretly believed in love at first sight and all the silly, little things that gave him the momentary escapes from reality. The boy that he was some ten years ago would have bought the love story which was written between the lines. The love that was in the stolen glances and tentative touches. But he is no longer that boy. The man he has become knows that hearts are broken more easily than they are mended.

There are certain roads Chris is not willing to tread twice, not if he has a choice. And Chris has been through this route once in his life which was enough to convince him not to voluntarily go through it ever again. It was years ago, but it left a wound that refuses to fully heal. In the heady haze, Chris had been a boy who didn't know any better. He had fallen in love, accidentally, foolishly and for the first time in his life.

" _I was just experimenting. Isn't that what college is for?_ " The guy had said before walking out of the door.

It had been all fun and games, but only as long as there were things to explore. It really was fun, until it wasn't.

Chris' first venture into love and lust ended with a valuable lesson in self-worth. (A lesson his parents might have tried to teach him, but he had been too stubborn to learn.) He learned that he can't be the one left behind by a guy who suddenly realizes he's not quite gay enough to stay. And after a couple of more heart-breaks, he learned that he needs to be sure that both parties are on the same page, going deeper than just gender preferences, before it is too late. With the lessons learned, Chris started making wiser choices about the people he allowed to enter his life and the situations he allowed himself to be put in.

Sometimes, Chris still misses the boy who wasn't afraid to blindly leap towards something new and uncertain. He would have taken whatever Darren was offering, without stopping to ask questions. But Chris is no longer that boy. He is a man who truly tries to make wiser choices, sometimes still failing miserably.

Although Chris gives into the thrill of adventure at times, he usually seeks safety, even at the expense of opportunities. And it makes anything with Darren seem difficult, if not impossible, because everything with Darren feels dangerous and out of control. It is no way near safe.

Chris lies in the bed, listening to the ear-humming silence of the room. He is protected, alone in his bedroom, but it doesn't stop him from thinking what he left behind a couple of hours ago. And it doesn't stop him from asking the question that might be best left unanswered: What if he stayed?

Chris twists and turns restlessly until he's lying on his side. When he closes his eyes again, he is flooded with memories. He remembers things that he didn't pause to enjoy, or barely even noticed, in his urgent need. Chris feels Darren's fingers digging into the bare skin on his lower back. The shuddering breath against his neck between the blissful kisses as the hands roughly grip Chris' thighs. And the hot mouth on him that almost makes Chris to beg for more. He remembers everything, every touch too fresh and vivid, like he is experiencing all of it again. And it leaves him panting, for the second time during the night.

There is a throbbing sense of desire grinding down to the mattress. The release would be so easy, so close. But Chris doesn't chase after it, instead he opens his eyes and shifts until he is sitting on the edge of the bed. Chris doesn't know what would have happened if he had stayed. He could imagine, but he doesn't. He can't surrender under the insurgence of his body.

Chris is sitting there, feet on the floor, hands white-knuckling the sheets. He has to fight against the desperate need to succumb to what his body wants. Chris has to actively stop himself from getting up, putting on his clothes, taking his keys and returning to Darren. And it isn't the first time he feels this way in the dim morning hours after arriving home. Once, he actually got to his car before he managed to find his strength of will.

A part of Chris wants to chastise himself for running off when he could have stayed, but the part of him that regrets leaving is located between his legs and he never allows that part to make his decisions for him. Never when he can still think straight enough to veto the lustful desires. Deep down Chris knows that he made the right choice for the part that matters the most. His cock is not as fragile as his heart; it can get over the lost love, and it is easier than piecing together a shattered heart.

Chris can't go back to Darren, and he can't feel bad for leaving. He needs to know that they are on the same page before anything could ever happen with Darren. But before he can ask what Darren wants, Chris has to make sure that he can survive it, without a searing pain, when he would hear that Darren doesn't want anything more than eager touches in the fleeting moment. He has to make sure that he has the strength to decline when their wants and needs don't align. Chris isn't there yet, so he waits for his feelings to pass.

\---

On Monday, Chris wakes up an hour or two before sunrise, without an alarm and without need to wake up for several hours. Two nights of fitful sleep behind him and he is exhausted. The clarity he found after his night with Darren had quickly evaporated with the rising sun on the following morning, providing him only a few hours of peace. Now, his head is a mess again, having had more time to replay the events. And despite the minutes and hours spent thinking of the guy, Chris isn’t any closer to resolving the complexities.

Chris refuses to stay in bed, paralyzed by his overwhelming thoughts. He gets up and puts on the T-shirts and pajama pants that he had discarded on the floor when wave of heated want had flowed through him during the night. But on his way to the kitchen, he quickly reverts back to the topic he can't seem to escape.

When Chris tries to make sense of what happened that night, he gets further entangled in the web of confusing thoughts. Darren had initiated the light, dreamy kiss, but Chris had kicked it up a notch, or several notches, by eventually straddling the guy and grinding against him. Although Darren didn't stop him, Chris found the restrain in himself, perhaps too late.

Chris opens the can of diet Coke he took from the fridge and slumps against the kitchen counter as he takes the first sip. He tries not to think about all of it, he really does. After a second can of soda, he continues to fill the morning with his usual routines. Chris takes a long, hot shower, complete with shaving and moisturizing. He puts on his clothes, a T-shirt and jeans, before heading to his home office to go through some emails. But safety of his morning routines isn't calming him down, and he knows why.

Chris leans back on the office chair. It's just 09:36 AM, and he doesn't have a photo shoot scheduled until late afternoon. With a deep sigh, he caves into the thoughts that refuse to leave him.

Chris cringes at the memory of his own actions from that night. The guilt is sneaking in, much like after their night at his house. Chris reminds himself that it was Darren who initiated the kiss two nights ago. But it doesn't help because Chris knows that he pushed things beyond PG-13. Guilt seems appropriate. As if it isn't enough, there is an anger sparking deep inside his chest. What _the hell_ he was thinking, kissing Darren like that?

Chris gets up, because he can't stay still. Needing to keep himself busy, he goes out to get his mail. And then, he sees the small, white envelope. Nothing out of the ordinary, except there is no address, just his name. Chris immediately knows that it's from Darren, or he doesn't know but the circumstances do warrant the short leap of logic.

And it's like a flip of switch. The fact that Darren had delivered the letter himself suddenly makes Chris mad at Darren due to several reasons, some of which Chris might not even acknowledge.

Darren must know. As much as Chris likes to believe that he has managed to keep his emerging feelings to himself, his crush must have been blatantly obvious, at least the last time they saw each other. And yet, the guy is toying with him.

During the photo shoot, Chris stood there in Darren's bedroom, danging on the edge of silent determination not to give into his needs, to pin Darren on the bed under him kissing him breathless. But Darren kept pushing him, seeing how far he can take things until Chris would break. And then, the kiss on the sofa, that wasn't perhaps dreamy at all but taunting, did break Chris, in the best and worst possible way.

Darren must know how Chris feels. And yet, he keeps hurting Chris by allowing him things he shouldn't want or shouldn't have. Darren is instilling fear in Chris; with every look and touch, he is expecting for it all to be yanked away from him the moment he starts to enjoy it. Yes, anger seems appropriate too.

Chris returns to his home office, still staring at the letter in his hands. He doesn't throw the letter away, but he doesn't open it either. Whatever Darren has to say will need to wait, because Chris isn't ready to hear it.

\---

The next day Chris is standing in the streets of New York City, preparing for the last photo shoot for the fashion ad campaign. While it's not the busiest street, being rather far from anything of interest, there is still the constant flurry of people walking by. The narrow sidewalk and limited space for parking near the location that was chosen for the photo shoot doesn't really provide a lot of room to maneuver. At least the weather isn't bad; no rain clouds in sight and the midday sun doesn't feel as unbearably hot as some days.

Chris has mixed feelings about these type of photo shoots. The thrill of the challenge doesn't quite drown out the fear over the number of things that could go wrong at any given moment or the frustration when they do go wrong. Location shoots on busy streets can be a struggle on their own, without having to simultaneously direct multiple models in the group shot.

It isn't the first time that Chris has done something similar. He knows he has to rely on his crew because he can't do control the chaos all on his own. (Perhaps, it isn't really chaos, but it feels like that compared to the simple studio shoots.) And he knows he can rely on them, because he had carefully hand-picked each crew member for this shoot. Despite the support, Chris knows it will continue to be a struggle until the end.

Chris looks up from his camera and sees Darren standing with a small group of people several feet away from him. Darren isn't talking, just observing the conversation around him. Having left the studio early, Chris didn't meet the models until they arrived at the location. Chris has worked with all of them previously, and many of them came to greet Chris when they arrived. Not Darren. With Darren, there is just silence.

Chris hasn't seen Darren since Saturday night. As much as he would still want to be angry with Darren, he can't help but look at him curiously. The letter that could have given him answers remains unopened on the desk at his home. He isn't ready. Yet, Darren is there, in his line of sight, so Chris is compelled to look, hoping to catch some kind of indication what the guy might be thinking or feeling.

There are no sign, until there is. When Darren looks towards Chris and their eyes meet, there is a deer in the headlights moment. Darren probably sees something quite similar in Chris' eyes before he quickly looks away. But the moment comes to an end as abruptly as it began. And then, Chris employs his tactic of professional friendly distance once again, this time more distant than friendly, and Darren seems to do the same.

During the photo shoot, Chris doesn't pay attention to Darren more than he needs to. He focuses his attention to other models, largely ignoring Darren. And it doesn't go unnoticed by Darren when Chris gives directions to the male model leaning on Darren, but says nothing to him. Chris catches the flash of something, perhaps confusion or hurt, in Darren's eyes. He has to look away. And when Chris turns his eyes back on Darren, whatever was there is gone.

Perhaps, it is a blessing that it is a busy photo shoot, with multiple models in the streets of New York. If it was just two of them, with only a few assistants, it could have been one very strained photo shoot, because they could barely look at each other, let alone interact. Instead there are many things vying for Chris' attention, making the shoot run quicker and easier.

At the end of the photo shoot, Chris takes a moment to thank everyone since it is the last time he is working with the models. After he says his goodbyes to them collectively, people quickly disperse. While Chris is coordinating the dismantling of the set-up, many of models still come individually to say their goodbyes to Chris before leaving.

Chris is torn. Perhaps, it would be for the best if Darren didn't come to him. He isn't sure whether they should get that private moment. There is an undeniable beauty to the thought that the kiss they shared at Darren's apartment could be their last moment alone, regardless of how it ended. Yet, another though emerges that cuts Chris deep. It would still mean that his last words to Darren were not really to him, but to a group of people, like he is just another faceless individual in the crowd.

Chris is torn, but not for long. When Chris notices Darren, he can't take his eyes off him. Chris allows himself these last minutes of indulgence, as much as they may hurt, when he sees Darren walking towards him. And there is a brief moment of silence between them, when they are finally standing close to each other again.

"Did you get my...?" Darren trails off quietly, staring at his feet.

"Yes."

Chris knows exactly what Darren is referring to, even without so many words. His reply is short, quick and precise, like the click of a shutter. It perfectly captures the situation; Chris received the envelope but that's all. It still lies unopened on the desk at his home office. So Chris doesn't say more, he doesn't look at Darren, at least not immediately. When Chris turns his eyes to meet Darren's, there is another moment of silence between them, like they are both figuring out where to go from here.

"Can we see each other over the weekend?"

If possible, Darren's second question is more cautious than the first. The question isn't what Chris expected, but it isn't a surprise either. He isn't prepared for it. Yet, there is only one answer he can give.

"I don't think it's a good idea." Chris says, looking away from Darren.

It's the truth, honest and brutal. Chris has proof, worth of two weekends, how bad of an idea spending time alone with Darren can be. The truth doesn't take away the sting, of disappointment, longing or perhaps remorse. But Chris can survive. He knows he wants it too much, as much as he knows that one night of anything that Darren would offer wouldn't be enough.

And as if by act of mercy, they are interrupted when Chris is needed somewhere else. Chris looks back after a couple of minutes, but Darren is already gone, disappeared. He knows instinctively that he won't see Darren again. Chris is free, except he doesn't feel free.

\---

Chris manages to keep himself busy enough to disregard the memories until the weekend. The distance gave him peace, but nothing more. It didn't bring any resolution. He didn't think of Darren, not much anyway, until he does.

On Sunday night, Chris is sitting on living room sofa with a bottle of beer on his hand and a laptop on his thighs. He is scrolling through the pictures of Darren that he took at his house. The unhindered vulnerability is as evident in the pictures as it was under Chris' eyes on that day. And it's not the only time Chris saw glimpses of this Darren. The vulnerability was there, on the night at Darren's apartment when they talked.

Chris knows Darren didn't have to share all of the things he did with him. These are things that people generally reveal only to the closest friends, family members, lovers... But Darren showed his sensitive side to Chris, although he didn't have to. Chris is realizing that all along, Darren was sharing with Chris as much as Chris was sharing with Darren. Perhaps, even more.

Seeing the pictures, Chris can't deny that Darren looks breath-taking. He asks himself whether he has fallen prey to the external beauty of the guy. Chris started making assumptions about Darren the moment he entered his studio that first day, or actually even earlier than that. He made them without stopping to truly listen to Darren, to see for himself who he is beyond the looks. The realization makes Chris nauseous; he has taken pride on not being that guy who judges based on appearances, but he is, even if it was only for his own protection. Chris has been hurt, deeply and too many times, but it doesn't justify any of it. So Chris decides to look at Darren, for the first time, with open mind.

Chris takes a sip from his beer as if to prepare himself. And when he clicks through the pictures of Darren, he sees it. A glimmer of something that sparks a timid hope in Chris' chest. In one or two of the pictures, there is something more than vulnerability. Is it perhaps desire or something more that Darren felt for Chris on that day? Darren's intense stare piercing through the pictures, grabbing a hold of Chris, isn't enough to answer the question. It is enough to make Chris want to ask it, even more than earlier.

It's been a week, but there is again that longing, deep within Chris, to go to Darren, to just go and knock on his door. Finally, Chris is ready. But it feels too late, as if whatever there was has turned into a missed opportunity. It _is_ too late.

The yearning to hold Darren close him is still there. Chris wonders what he has to do to keep himself apart from Darren. But there is another much more precarious question, lingering at the edge of his consciousness, he tries to push away: What price he would need to pay, what compromises to make, to feel that intoxicating high with Darren once again? He knows he can't. Or perhaps, Chris could still call Darren. Perhaps, Chris could ask Darren to meet him someday.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris can't wait for miracles anymore, to get over something that never really was anything. Something that still affects him deeper than he wants or needs, making him ache for things that he has ignored for such a long time. But what is the appropriate amount of time to wait until you should try to find happiness with someone else when the feelings you're getting over were unrequited? It's been twelve days since he saw Darren. Things should be getting easier with every passing day, not harder. He needs to read letter and accept whatever Darren writes. Only then, Chris can move on.

On Saturday night, Chris is arriving to the restaurant a few minutes late, having struggled to find a place to park his car. It isn't the most convenient means of transportation in a city like New York, not by far, but he needed to keep his mind busy.

There is a light drizzle of rain. It isn't enough to make Chris drenched as he makes his way from his car towards the restaurant. It isn't enough to wash away his restless energy either. Chris is almost there, at least physically, on the date that he was supposed to have already two weeks ago. He is there, but perhaps he shouldn't be.

Chris doesn't notice him, not right away. And when he finally sees the guy, waiting for him outside the restaurant, there is the sudden bang of guilt.

The guy looks as cute as Chris remembered, or perhaps a bit cuter even. His dark blond hair is carefully styled away from his face. The dark-rimmed glasses stand out at a stark contrast against his light features. A contrast that is echoed in his outfit, a black long-sleeved button-up with light blue jeans. A smile spreads on his face when he notices Chris.

"Sorry, it took me forever to get here."

"It’s okay. Are you ready?" The guy says with a smile on his face that Chris can't quite respond to.

Chris knows he is not terribly late, but he almost hates how easily the guy shrugs it off. It irks him mostly because it reminds Chris of someone who he would rather keep out of his mind during the date. Chris is here now; he chose to come, so he chooses to stay.

"Yes. Let's go inside."

Chris doesn't feel ready, not as much as he'd want to be, but he follows the guy inside the restaurant. He can't wait for miracles anymore, to get over something that never really was anything. Something that still affects him deeper than he wants or needs, making him ache for things that he has ignored for such a long time. But what is the appropriate amount of time to wait until you should try to find happiness with someone else when the feelings you're getting over were unrequited? (The feelings were unrequited, weren't they?)

When they are seated on the opposite sides of the table, they look at each other for a while, scrambling for a way to begin. But soon enough, they fall into a comfortable conversation, and Chris loses some of his self-consciousness.

The guy is quite good conversation partner, almost making Chris forget why being there with him feels so wrong. There is something rather comforting in listening to him ramble about the kind of inconsequential things people share on first dates. He even manages to make Chris smile a couple of times during the dinner. It's not all bad, but it still doesn't feel right.

At the end of the date, they are standing outside the restaurant, saying their goodbyes. The guy is cute, he is fun and he _is_ interested in Chris, just like Chris knew from earlier. The attraction on his part is evident, shown in the way he kept looking at Chris during the dinner and the way he still does. He stares at Chris, not in an intrusive manner, but as if he is waiting for a sign. A sign that Chris never gives.

It might have been a good date with a good guy, but it isn't the magical first date that leads to a second. When the guy is standing near and looking at Chris with eyes sparkling and smile on his lips, Chris can't bring himself to kiss him. He can't even make definite plans beyond this night although the guy is clearly willing.

Chris suddenly realizes everything that is missing. The guy might be good, the kind of guy who could be and would _want_ to be great for him. Chris should feel the sweet tingle of starting something new, he should feel the temptation to take things further. Yet, he doesn't. The lack of feelings is as big of a sign as having feelings would be.

And it's all Chris needs to realize that as much as he'd want, he's still not over Darren. But he is too late. He has barely heard from him after their last photo shoot. A single text message isn't enough to close the rift after days of silence and distance.

From all the heartbreaks he has endured, Chris knows what he needs to do, because he has seen the other side of the story. Chris knows he needs to let this guy go. He says his goodbyes, without plans for more, and walks away from something that could have been great if situation was any different.

\---

Late Sunday afternoon, Chris is sitting by his desk at his home office. He has been staring at the envelope for several minutes. The envelope that has lain on the desk untouched and abandoned for almost two weeks, all because Chris wasn't ready. And when he though he was ready, it was too late.

Chris' failed attempt to reintroduce normalcy to his life the previous night brought some clarity to his murky situation. He still isn't where he wants to be, not over the mess his mind has become due to the ill-advised infatuation, but he knows how to get there. Chris needed to let go of the date who would have been just a distraction. And now, he needs to let go of the guy because of whom Chris wants to be distracted. He needs to read letter and accept whatever Darren writes. Only then, Chris can move on.

Chris carefully opens the envelope with his jittery fingers. With the peek inside, Chris feels cheated; he is robbed out of a resolution. Chris doesn't blame Darren. He chides himself for his naivety, for thinking that whatever is inside the envelope would suddenly change things. Chris scolds himself for thinking that the resolution he has been seeking would so easily be handed over by the guy who isn't always very good at playing by the rules, rather bending but not breaking them.

Inside the envelope, there is no letter, no final words that would have told Darren's side of the story. There is nothing, except a memory card from a camera. It isn't what Chris wanted or what he needed. It is something that is as complex as the feelings he is trying to overcome. But caving into his curiosity, Chris puts the memory card in his laptop.

It's the pictures that Darren took at his apartment two weeks ago. In the first photograph, Chris is standing in front of the window, with the slightest luminous glow of backlight, in the bright bedroom. The faint blush highlights the timid look on his face. It is evident how awkward Chris felt being on the wrong side of the camera lens. He feels almost as awkward looking at the pictures now. As Chris starts clicking through them, he gets lost in his thoughts again.

Chris is slowly coming to a disheartening realization that the distance isn't working out, not like he had hoped. It's been twelve days since he saw Darren. Things should be getting easier with every passing day, not harder.

It is almost as if his mind is overcompensating for the loss. Because Darren is no longer physically in his life, he is constantly in Chris' thoughts. There have been days, too many really, when Darren has been the first thing Chris thinks about in morning and the last thing he thinks in night. It's an unwanted nuisance bordering on obsession, or perhaps it's the gravity. The same force, that pushed Chris near Darren, doesn't allow him to completely pull away.

And Chris doesn't even think about the kiss anymore. Things would be simpler if his mind was still consumed by the touched he reveled in. He could brush it off based solely on the fact that it has been too long time since he has been close to anyone in that way. Yet, Chris' mind keeps drifting towards something completely different. A string of words that replay inside his head like a song that he doesn't manage to forget.

" _It's available whenever I need it. It takes me as I am. There aren't many people in my life that I could say the same about._ " Darren said two weeks ago.

Before Darren entered his life, Chris had been fine. Although he had never stopped looking for someone special, not even after the heartbreaks that made him painfully cautious, he had accepted the lack of such significant connection. Chris had accepted, with all the conviction of a young twenty-something, that it was not quite his time to find love yet. Still, it had never felt like a void that desperately needed to be fulfilled, not before Darren.

Chris is startled awake from his musings as he reaches the last picture on the memory card. He cringes at the sight of it. In the photograph, Chris is standing with his left hand touching the back of his neck. The muscles of his arm are slightly flexed, showing definition. The black leather cuff on his wrist is pressed against his bare chest. He is topless, jeans hanging low on his hips. A strand of hair has fallen on his forehead, and the glow of a blush is high on his cheeks. Chris is looking directly at the camera. His stare is incredibly bold, intense, almost like a dare thrown at the person who meets his gaze. His pupils are blown, even with the lightness of the room. It is obvious, completely obvious to anyone, exactly what Chris wanted at that moment.

Remembering Darren's word again, Chris knows what he truly wants. He wants more than what is reflected from his eyes in the picture. Chris wants all of what Darren said. He wants someone that he can rely on when he needs him. He wants someone to see who he truly is and to still want him. Chris wants to be loved in a way that is pure and genuine.

And the scariest realization of all is that he desperately wants to be that person for Darren. He knows he has been lucky in his life, regardless of the challenges he has faced. But as lucky as he has been and still is, it doesn't stop Chris from wanting more, from wanting Darren.

Chris is struggling to accept the chance he missed, except there never really was a chance. Fighting off the tightness in his chest, he suddenly realizes it isn't over. There is still one more picture. A picture he didn't expect to see. There's a capricious flutter in his heart, as he is trying to grasp what he is in front of his eyes. In the photograph, there is a piece of paper laid out on wrinkled bed sheets. Four short words that reveal everything and nothing at all at the same time.

_I wanted it too._

Chris remembers. On that night two weeks ago, Darren didn't push Chris away. It was Chris himself who fled. _Darren wanted it too._ Yet, it's one thing to want something with a defined expiration: for an hour, for the night, until the leaves fall, until I get bored, until I find someone I truly love... It's quite another to want something, or someone, until further notice and without any boundaries.

Chris knows he wants the latter, but he doesn't know what Darren wants. He never asked. And Chris is struck by a sneaking suspicion that this thing, the gravity that keep pulling him near, won't let go of him until he does know.

\---

It never ceases to amaze Chris how the city is buzzing with life, even on a dark and wet Sunday night. Although there will still be weeks of warm sunny days, a second night in a row of light rain is a gentle reminder that things always change. And change can be either embraced or accepted, because anything else is futile.

Chris brushes his hand through his damp hair as he stands there, frozen outside on the street gathering courage. The determination isn't gone, but it doesn't stop emotions from flooding in. He is afraid. Chris is allowed to be nervous as he is running towards heartbreak, not away from it. Of course, nothing is certain, not even the heartbreak.

Although Chris is already late, obnoxiously late, he needs more than just courage. He needs to tempt fate to be sure. There aren't many things Chris believes in; he knows there are no unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. But there is a belief, tickling at the edges of his consciousness and keeping him from falling apart. Chris secretly and perhaps foolishly believes that things he shouldn't miss will still be waiting for him, no matter how late he arrives. And if Darren were still here, Chris will know for sure.

Chris can't wait forever. He understands that every story doesn't have a happy ending. Some stories don't have an ending at all. But for this reason, Chris needs to stand there for another moment and let go enough so he can succumb to whatever lie ahead. Some things just are beyond his control and might be better left that way.

Chris takes out his phone from his jacket pocket. It's 9:13 PM, but time isn't what he is looking for. With a sharp inhale, Chris opens the text message he received on Thursday. It is the only piece of communication between Darren and him since they met last time at the photo shoot twelve days ago.

_White Noise at West Village. Sunday 8:30 PM. Please come._

Chris is there, standing outside the bar. Whether you call it a coincident, dumb luck or fate, the end result remains the same. His life is a string of choices that led him here to this moment, same way like it could lead him somewhere new and unexpected soon after this. Chris doesn't fully know which decisions brought him to this door, but he is sure that he couldn't bring himself to regret any of them. He knows he needs to be here. Chris also knows that when one door bumps his back by slamming shut, another door is cracked open. He would just have to find the courage to walk through it. But Chris isn't looking for a new door yet, because this door still remains open, if only barely.

Chris ducks his face as he quietly slips into the bar. The solid hum of people talking is almost enough to drown out the music, someone somewhere singing and playing the guitar. It's almost enough to drown out his thoughts. Being faced with the consequences of his actions, he can't help but feel a bit apprehensive. After all, fate, or whatever you choose to call it, can't protect him from pain if it's headed his way. But perhaps, he deserves pain for waiting this long and making Darren wait.

Chris lifts his eyes and takes his first shy glance around the room. There is something raw and unabashed about the bar; the dim lighting, the slightly worn-out leather chairs and the peculiar mix of posters and pictures covering the roughness of the red-brick walls. There is something real that Chris could see himself enjoying. Still, this isn't the setting he had pictured in his mind for the talk that he desperately needed to have with Darren. But Chris gave up the right to choose when he walked out on him that night. He doesn't know if Darren wants to talk anymore. And being almost an hour late, Chris should consider himself lucky if Darren is even there.

Chris is standing near the door, eyes searching the crowd. Every face that doesn't belong to the guy he is looking for pushes him closer the edge of calamity. Chris tempted fate; he begged it to make the decision for him when he hadn't reached out to Darren earlier. He is too late, truly this time, because Darren isn't waiting for him anymore. Chris wants to feel relieved that it is over, but he doesn't.

Chris isn't ready to fully embrace his situation, so he walks over to the bar. Suddenly, he hates that he came there by car. It means that the diet Coke he orders doesn't come with rum. Chris could have really used the rum. He would even take tequila, regardless of the crazy things it does to him, if only to get rid of the tightness in his chest.

Chris can't bear to look at anyone or to interact with anyone. His eyes are fixed on the drink in front of him. He doesn't want to be immersed in his somber thoughts either.

For a moment, he closes his eyes listening to the song, the distant melody he can hear over the constant chatter of people around him. The words in the song aren't sad, but the voice of the guy singing is so thick with emotion that it is heartbreaking. (It sounds familiar somehow; perhaps, it's something he has heard earlier, but doesn't remember.) And Chris is perfectly in tune with the sentiment.

Chris came here, but he was too late. Darren isn't here, so it's not meant to be. Chris' beliefs don't comfort him anymore, not when he would have need it the most. To stop himself from sinking into despair, he decides to stay for a moment, to let the distant company of strangers and the sad love songs sooth him. When he turns around to find somewhere to sit, closer to enjoy the music, Chris quickly stops in his tracks. It is then that Chris sees him across the room.

He is sitting on a bar stool cradling a guitar on his lap. His skin is glimmering with sweat under the hot glaring spotlights. T-shirt clinging to his body doesn't hide the tension on his shoulders. With his head hanging low, his curls are lying against his forehead, some tiny hairs plastered to the damp skin along the hairline. His eyes, those mesmerizing hazel eyes, are closed, and there is a pained look on his face as he is singing the song. Everything about this man is silently screaming that he is not okay, and seeing him this way shatters Chris' heart, because it's not just a man, it's Darren.

For days and weeks, Chris has been dominated by his own internal struggles that he has failed to notice Darren's. He pushed him away, because he had been convinced that Darren could never see him as more than a friend. Chris has been selfish, and anything pure and genuine can't be selfish, at least not without being selfless at the same time. And discovering all of it now, he knows he would rather be the friend, even only a friend, who asks the important questions and offers support than the selfish coward who runs and hides because it is convenient. Perhaps, this new-found bravery is due to guilt, because Chris can't brush off the nagging sense that a part of the hurt he sees is his fault. Guilt may not be the most noble of motives, but at least Chris is finally committed to doing what is right, if Darren will allow.

When the song draws to an end, Darren opens his eyes. And then, he is no longer consumed by the feelings the song brought to surface. He looks at his audience with a vulnerable openness, but there is no more pain on his face. Darren doesn't seem to notice Chris who has inched a bit closer to him, leaning on a high table still several feet away towards the back of the room. Darren may not see him, but Chris can't stop staring at him.

"Thank you all. You've spoiled me rotten." Darren says flashing a bashful smile at the applause and directs his next words to someone over at the bar. "And thank you for having me here."

Darren's eyes roam through the audience, as if he wants to personally connect with every person listening to him. And then, he looks towards Chris for the briefest moment, eyes squinting slightly before quickly turning away. When Darren focuses on arranging his papers on the note stand in front of him, Chris tries not to feel too disappointed. Darren is still there, that's all that matters. There is still a chance.

"It's time for my last song. It's a new song, something that I wrote just recently." Darren says with eyes still focused on his papers.

When Darren turns back to his audience, Chris' breath stutters at the way Darren is staring directly at him. There is no hesitation. Chris sees a flicker of something more than just recognition in his eyes.

"I wrote the song for someone who said to me not long ago that having enough doesn't mean you stop wanting more." Darren says without breaking the intense eye contact. "Someone who makes me feel just that."

Darren looks down at his guitar flicking the strings and shifts a little on his seat, like preparing himself for the performance, before he looks at the audience again. "The song is called All Things Beautiful."

Chris is standing in a stunned silence, trying to make sense of Darren's words. _Darren said that he wrote the song for Chris._ Not in so many words, not in a way that anyone else in the room would understand. Chris' name was not mentioned. It leaves him enough room to convince himself that he imagined the whole thing. Chris isn't the kind of guy who gets serenaded by gorgeous guys, and even less the kind of guy to whom songs are written. Yet, it would be easier to believe if the lyrics would not be what they are.

In his state of confusion, Chris missed the opening lines of the song. He is still wound too tight to fully appreciate performance, but he catches bits and pieces of the lyrics. But listening to Darren sing, Chris can't deny it anymore; the song is not only for him, it is about him. He doesn't need a mirror to recognize himself from the less-than-subtle description woven into the lyrics. It is safe to assume that it is about him, unless Darren primarily hangs out with blue-eyed, blushing brunettes who dole out words of wisdom and spend Saturdays making out with him. Of course, the lyrics didn't share quite all of it, but it is enough to take away any doubts Chris might have had. Yes, the song is about him, but the whole concept is still absurd.

Darren, who per his own words, only dabbles with music, wrote a song to a guy that he has kissed twice, or has been kissed by two occasions. Chris doesn't know much about song writing, but he knows about art. Something this beautiful isn't created in a couple of weeks without a true inspiration. And this realization comes to Chris with another; he may have shared with Darren more than just the evident physical connection and he may not be the only one who felt it, whatever it is.

Chris knows it was more than just physical for him. He has discussed with Darren about things he rather keep to himself, more than once edging on his own vulnerabilities. He told Darren about his family and his sister's health issues. It is something that Chris hadn't shared even with the last guy he dated months ago. And Darren discussed with Chris about his life similar openness, easily delving even deeper. He would probably have offered more of himself if Chris was willing to take. There seemed to be no boundaries what Darren would give.

Looking at Darren now, Chris has a revelation. Darren has shown so much of himself. The only thing he has been holding back from Chris is the same thing Chris himself has been hiding. Waking up from his thoughts, Chris sees Darren singing with his eyes closed again. There is no more pain in his face, but it has been replaced by something soft, something melancholic.

"Who broke you so bad, that you believe, you are beyond repair? Who made you so sad, that you believe, you will never be loved?"

The words cut Chris deeper than he expected, but he manages to blink away tears that suddenly welled in his eyes. Darren knows. Chris has spent weeks pushing Darren away because he has been hurt and he refuses to be hurt again. He had hidden his feelings, the infatuation and the fear. In his moment of anger, Chris had even foolishly believed that if Darren knew, it would be something for him to toy with. But it isn't. Darren sees Chris who he really is behind his layers of protection. He sees Chris as he is and he still wanted to see him again, here tonight. And suddenly, Chris is filled with dread and excitement, all at the same time.

For such a long time, Chris wondered why he fell for Darren so quickly, so easily. It didn't happen because Chris' needs weren't met, because he turned down other opportunities to fulfill them. It didn't happen because of the roles they were thrust upon, because he felt the same as the roles switched, when he was the photographer, the model, the colleague, the friend and briefly the lover. It didn't happen because of proximity or opportunity, at least not solely because of those things, because the feelings didn't go away with silence and distance. The last question Chris asks himself again is: Did it happen because of desire or something more?

Finally, Chris knows that everything happened because of there was, and there is, something more. And the feelings are not Chris' alone. Seeing the smile on Darren's face, Chris knows Darren might just be as crazy about him, as he is about Darren.

\---

With the final notes, there is a need, deep within Chris, to rush to Darren, to take his hand, to hold him near and to finally talk about everything that they had not talked about. But then, Darren's words come to Chris' mind like a whisper from the past.

" _If you just relaxed and released some of your control, you could find something truly beautiful._ " Darren said to him on that dinner where charred bridges were repaired.

For years, Chris had been observing people through the lens, keeping a safe distance from everyone. Behind his camera, he felt in control of this life, of his feelings, of his future. Although he had looked for love, he wasn't truly ready for anyone, especially anyone like Darren who would challenge the things Chris held true.

Darren made Chris re-evaluate the price he pays and compromises he makes to keep himself safe from heartbreak. Darren proved over and over again that the true beauty lies in those moments where Chris can let go of his control, if only a little. The moments when Chris didn't overpower at photo shoots, hide his thoughts and feelings in conversations, pull back from physical intimacy. Darren pushed Chris out of his comfort zone, not too hard, but enough to crack his barriers a little.

Chris realizes that the confusion and pain arose in those moments where he tried to control things, to refuse something that was so clearly building between Darren and him. He knows now that control doesn't always keep him safe, sometimes it can actually be the source of pain. And all of this is bringing the constant battle between his head and heart to an end, or at least to ceasefire.

And just like that, Chris is no longer in a hurry. He stands there waiting and staring at Darren from across the room. Darren is packing his guitar and sheet music, back turned to the audience, while talking with someone, a tall guy with long, dark hair and an expressive face. A friend perhaps, based on the easy smiles they share, but Chris reminds himself that Darren isn't shy to smile to strangers. When Darren leans in for a quick hug with the guy, Chris feels a tinge of jealousy. Yet, he really doesn't need to be jealous, not with the way Darren keeps looking over his shoulder towards Chris over and over again. As if he is making sure every time that he is still there. Chris isn't going anywhere, not without him.

Chris can wait as long as long as Darren needs. Of course, his fingers are itching to touch Darren as his eyes follow his every move from across the room. Yet, Chris relaxes, if only a little, when he notices a similar urgency in Darren's moves. He can wait, because Darren wants him too.

And then, Darren walks over to Chris. There is the same sway of the hips that Chris remembers from the night at Darren's apartment. It isn't taunting or teasing anymore. It's a promise of good things ahead.

"I'm glad you came." Darren says in a low, hushed voice.

Darren is standing so close to Chris, so incredibly close to him that he almost wants to close his eyes in anticipation. Chris doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to push towards things that he wants. He is willingly following Darren's lead wherever it may take them. It's not about handing over the reins to Darren. It's about allowing things to develop freely without anyone holding the reins.

"I liked your last song." Chris says after taking a moment to just stare into Darren's eyes.

"What can I say? I was inspired." Darren says, lips curling to a wide grin.

It's a smile that breaks the remainders of tension built between them over from the past days and weeks. A smile that tickles Chris' own lips. He could easily join in the joy, but there are things he needs to say first.

"I'm sorry. I was late." Chris says.

"You are worth the wait." Darren says. "Besides, I knew you needed time to think."

Darren replies without any hesitation. His smile doesn't even falter. Perhaps it softens a bit as he continues to stare into Chris' eyes with unwavering certainty. Chris can't look away, he doesn't want to, but it is almost daunting how well Darren can read him. Darren understands that Chris isn't only apologizing for having arrived to the bar almost an hour late. He is apologizing for being days, perhaps weeks, late in accepting everything that has been going on between them. Similarly, Darren knows that Chris needed to think. He knowingly gave Chris space and time when he needed it, without giving up on his relentless pursuit for more. It is not only daunting, it is dizzying how wanted and cherished Darren makes Chris feel now that he realizes everything he has done for him.

"I tried not to think." Chris says quietly, words barely louder than a whisper because he is ashamed. "But it isn't quite that easy, forgetting you."

Darren doesn't say anything, he doesn't reach out to touch him, but he tilts his head slightly, staring at Chris with a tender look in his eyes. He understands. Chris knows he understands how it hasn't been easy for Chris and how he is finally done running and hiding. Someday, they need to talk, but in this moment, silence is enough. A shy smile slowly blooming on Chris' lips seems to tell everything that Darren needed to know.

"Can I - Can I walk you to your door?" Darren asks with a hint of the same smile on his own lips.

It doesn't make much sense. Not only does Chris live much further away, he is the one who arrived with a car. A part of Chris wants to argue against the insanity. Yet, he doesn't have the heart, or the will power, to deny Darren anything. Not anymore, when Darren is giving him everything in return. Chris will happily go wherever as long as Darren is with him.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris stops at the front step, turning towards Darren who stills close enough to touch, close enough to hear the smallest of whispers. Neither of them says a word, neither makes a move, but there is a knowing smile on both of their lips. It’s the sweet, torturous wait, for the first words, the first touch to truly change everything.

Chris stands there on the driveway near the path leading to his door. His eyes follow Darren who walks over to him with a hint of a smile lingering on his lips, probably matching the smile on Chris’ own lips.

After an initial coyness, they were taken over by a giddy high of a blooming romance during the car ride to Chris’ house. They talked about nothing of importance, but it still felt good just to talk after days of silence. Together, they smiled and laughed. And when Darren laughed, his eyes were squinting and his lips parted in a wide, toothy grin. A couple of times, Darren laughed so wholeheartedly that he threw his whole body into the joy, like he couldn't contain it at all. All Chris could think was that it just might be one of the most beautiful things he has seen.

With the door at sight, Chris suddenly falls silent again, as does Darren. They walk towards the door side-by-side, their shoulders brushing against each other. It’s dark, the outdoor lights illuminating the path before them. It’s wet, the smell of grass and soil after rain faint in the air. It’s quiet, no people or cars in the streets. At least for this moment, it’s just the two of them in the darkness of the night.

Chris stops at the front step, turning towards Darren who stills close enough to touch, close enough to hear the smallest of whispers. They are standing there, looking at each other. Neither of them says a word, neither makes a move, but there is a knowing smile on both of their lips. It’s the sweet, torturous wait, for the first words, the first touch to truly change everything.

As Darren’s eyes are searching Chris’ in a wordless request for permission, Chris is slowly sinking into the golden warmth of his eyes. There are flecks of something earthy, like green grass, that barely keeps him grounded. In the dim lighting, the pupils are almost fully blown. If eyes are mirrors to a person’s soul, Darren’s are open wide, luring him in. Chris couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. He knows he is at Darren's mercy. And the realization surfaces with a nervous flutter in his chest.

Darren slowly reaches out to place his hand on Chris' forearm, fingers curling into a confident grip. Despite the layers of clothing in between, the touch is electric. It is the first touch after the kisses they had shared at Darren's apartment two weeks ago. It is the first touch after Chris stopped fleeing and accepted everything he offers, regardless of the risk that someday Darren might break his heart. It is the beginning of something new, something that could be great.

"C'here." Darren murmurs.

When Darren tugs Chris closer, Chris drapes his arms on Darren's shoulders. His eyes flutter shut, of their own volition, in the moment that is too sweet for distractions. Chris feels a warm palm pressed between his shoulder blades and another slightly lower on his mid-back, the fingers splayed holding him close.

In this moment, Chris feels so thoroughly cared for, cherished and safe, that it just intensifies everything that he is feeling. It feels as if he is free. It feels as if he is releasing any remainders of the control that held him captive for such a long time. But Chris takes in a deep breath to steel himself; he can't give into the need, not completely, not yet anyway. He tries not to get consumed by the warmth of another person against him, and the want slowly pooling low in his stomach. He really tries, although he is already losing the battle.

Darren turns his face to nuzzle the crook of Chris' neck. The lips accidentally brush against the bare skin, fueling the need deep within. Chris fights against the urge to tilt his head back, exposing his throat in a silent plea for more. He already knows how Darren's lips feel pressed against his skin, on his lips, on his jaw, on his neck. The knowledge doesn't lessen the pain of anticipation. It adds to it. And with the shuddering exhale on his bare skin, Chris realizes that Darren is struggling, just as much as he is.

When Darren lifts his face from where it had hidden, Chris can barely strangle the needy whimper at the rasp of Darren's stubble against his jaw. Darren pulls away, just enough to glance at him, before closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Chris', nose brushing against Chris'. The hand between his shoulder blades finds its way to the nape of his neck while the other arm wraps around his body in a tighter. It's maddening how close Darren's lips are. It's maddening how tight Darren's body is pressed against his. And all Chris can do is wait, because it has to be Darren to take them somewhere beyond friends.

Eyes closed, Chris is listening to Darren breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his shoulders with every deep breath. There is a stifled twitch of the fingers on the back of his neck, like prelude to something. And then, Chris is being pulled into a kiss.

The kiss is light and tender, like an echo of the initial kiss that they shared at Darren's apartment. But this doesn't end, it doesn't even break. It just grows and grows in a delicious, slow burn where the wet, parted lips rediscovering how blissful it can be. Lips against lips, chest against chest and hands where they left off, warm and safe. Nothing more. Yet, when it finally breaks, if only for a second, Chris is breathless and desperate enough to ask for more.

"Come in?"

Chris doesn't wait for the response before leaning into another kiss. He isn't waiting for anything, he isn't holding back anymore. (Perhaps, he still is, but only a little.) And he revels in the way how all of it feels; the strong arm wrapped around him, the fingers laced in his hair at the back of his neck and the wet press of Darren's lips against his own.

And when Chris gently nips Darren's lower lip between his own, he feels Darren melting into his arms. The arm around him loosens. And the hand from his hair slides down to his side, gripping him just above his hip, but it doesn't stay there for long. With a swipe of a tongue on the lip, it isn't there anymore, it is cupping Chris' jaw below his ear, fingers curling towards back of his neck. Chris is being pulled in closer for a needier kiss, lips crushed against each other, before Darren suddenly pulls back, just a little.

"I will, I will." Darren says. "Just not tonight."

Chris feels dizzy, staring into the beautiful eyes. He knows Darren feels the same way. There is desire flowing between them, but there is so much more. It makes everything more intense than he though. (And he expected pretty intense.) It is the smallest things that spur Chris' needs, like the way that Darren's thumb is caressing Chris' cheekbone, as he stares into Chris' eyes. It's like a gentle tease, sending shivers down his spine, even if it isn't intended that way. It isn't enough.

It's needy, almost frantic the way Chris surges into the kiss. And despite the words, Chris feels Darren responding with similar hunger. When Darren tentatively slides his tongue between Chris' slightly parted lips, Chris can't help it. He needs it, just a small taste. The first touch of tongues ignites a throbbing heat deep within Chris'. And he opens his mouth wider, so Darren's tongue can chase after his own. When it does, Chris' hand finds its way to Darren's hair, entangling into the curls on the back of the neck. It is a desperate effort to keep him grounded despite Darren's tongue soft and silky against his own. Perhaps, it is because of the gentle tug of Darren's hair, but something shifts. From there, it just escalates into a fervent frenzy.

There is a muffled thump when Darren roughly backs Chris against the door. Suddenly, it is all too much, the tongue eagerly working his mouth and the hard press of Darren's body against his own. It is quickly making Chris lose his mind, and Darren's hands aren't even on him, not anymore. They are pressed against the wood panel, wrists brushing against Chris' shoulders. It is all too much, but still not nearly enough. Chris latches on to Darren, like he is drowning, like Darren is the only one who can save him from this urgent need. With a nip of teeth on Chris' bottom lip, Darren breaks the kiss. There is a needy whimper wanting to escape from Chris' throat, for the second time this night, but it doesn't. It doesn't because what follows is perhaps even better.

Pinned against the door, Chris feels the warm press of lips on his jaw. Between the parted lips, there is a swirl of tongue on his skin. And it isn't all. Darren's right hand is gently placed on Chris' side again, thumb running back and forth over the fabric of his T-shirt. Sinking into desire, Chris thrust against Darren, seeking friction, seeking anything that might relieve him. He knows Darren can feel it; he's more than just half hard. And then, there is a heady realization, when Darren presses against him, knee between Chris' legs, so is Darren.

All of it is making Chris light-headed and weak-kneed. (Perhaps, it is because of all the blood redirected towards his crotch.) When Darren kisses the sensitive skin on the juncture of his neck, Chris' knees buckle, just a little bit. Darren doesn't stop. The hot mouth continues to kiss and suck that single sweet spot, as Darren's arm snakes around him, crushed between the dip on the lower back and the wood panels of the door. Through the haze of urgent need, Chris can barely notice that his hips are moving and the arm around him is pulling him closer with every thrust. And each thrust is taking Chris closer to the edge, not close enough, but he knows it is there almost in sight. And then, Darren bites down on the sensitive skin as he presses hard against Chris. It is Chris' moan, low and needy, that breaks them apart, just a little, but enough to bring everything to a halt.

Darren doesn't push closer, but he doesn't pull away either. He is standing there, eyes closed trying to catch his breath. Feeling the hot exhale against his lips, Chris clenches his fingers on Darren's shoulder. He wants it bad, he wants it so bad that he can barely stop himself. Darren's lips are there, inches away and incredibly tempting.

"You got me. I'm yours." Chris whispers against Darren's lips, before pulling back enough to look into Darren's eyes. "Please come in with me."

Chris can't tear his eyes away from Darren, not with the way he is looking right now. Darren's curly hair is disheveled mess. His lips are red and swollen. And his eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes, are looking at him with a dreamy half-lidded gaze. There is no doubt; the last kiss had been as devastating to Darren as it had been to Chris. And the best part, Chris did this to him. Darren looks debauched all because of him, because Darren wants Chris as bad as Chris wants him.

When Darren finally speaks, his voice is low and frayed. It is almost pained.

"Chris, you are giving me so much, just being here this way with me. So much." Darren says. "But you deserve more than what I can offer you right now. I want to take my time with you. Time that neither of us have right now."

As if to emphasize his words, Darren leans to press a kiss, so light, so tender, on Chris' lips. Chris fights the urge to grind against Darren, because he is still turned on, still hard and throbbing. He fights off the need because he knows Darren is right. If anything, the intensity of their kisses has proven that it will be worth it to wait for more. And when Darren pulls away, Chris doesn't even chase after his lips, not much anyway.

"I'll call you tomorrow." Darren says, his eyes searching Chris'.

The look on Darren's eyes is so earnest that Chris wants to believe him. He tries to believe him, but he has a past, the kind of past that left him with insecurities. Chris knows there are no promises. He knows it is too early for them. And he knows even promises can be broken.

Chris is silent, gathering courage, until he asks what he needs to know. "And what if you don't?"

"Then, you'll call me." Darren says smiling.

Chris frowns at Darren's carefree reply. He doesn't believe things could be quite that easy. He doesn't fully believe even that Darren won't disappear from his life as easily as he entered it. But when belief begins to wane, hope emerges, steady and safe. And even the smallest drop of belief or hope is better than none, it is better than an ocean of doubt and fear. Chris clings to that small voice inside him ensuring that this isn't the last time he sees Darren, this isn't the end.

When Darren reaches out to touch him, Chris closes his eyes again. It's a soothing caress, the side of Darren's thumb tracing his eye brow, like brushing away worries. Then, the hand runs through his hair to the back of his neck, pulling in for a kiss. The kind of kiss, quick and light, that is usually shared between long-term lovers with the knowledge that it will not be their last. Although it's short and sweet, Darren doesn't pull away. He stays close to Chris, as if he knows that Chris needs it. He kisses again, as if he knows Chris needs it too.

"I really have to go. I'll call you, I promise." Darren says, grinning into the kiss.

And with the calming touch and confident words, hope grows stronger. It becomes enough to lean on. Chris pulls away to look at Darren, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion, although he can't fully hide the playful twitch in the corner of his mouth. He can't help but tease Darren a bit, now that he can.

"How can I be sure? It's not the first time you've run away."

And there, it is; Darren's low and breathy laugh that reminds Chris not to worry. Perhaps, things really could be that easy.

"I thought the scores were settled last time when you fled?" Darren says with no accusation or anger in his voice, before he continues. "Besides, I will be back, because there is something of mine that you have."

Chris lowers his eyes. It's too intense to stare into Darren's eyes when he says something like that. In a heedless moment, Chris places his hand there, splaying his fingers on the chest. Chris can feel the solid thump, thump, thump of Darren's heart on his palm. And when Chris finally looks up again, he sees Darren staring at him fondly.

"That too." Darren says with a tender smile on his lips as he places his hand on Chris' lacing their fingers on his chest. "But I meant my guitar in your car."

Chris knows he's blushing, but he can't control it. He couldn't control his actions, that lead him to have a reason to blush, either. Yet, it is, at the same time, scary and intense how easily Darren can read him. Chris feels it every time that Darren looks at him, especially after hearing his song. He feels it now when Darren is staring directly into his eyes, as he slides the hand from his neck to cradle Chris' burning cheek.

"You're so beautiful." Darren says, staring into Chris' eyes and thumb stroking his cheekbone. "Don't worry. I'll be back sooner than you think."

When Darren starts slowly leaning in, Chris closes his eyes in the anticipation of Darren's lips against his own. The warm hand that cupped his cheek slides lower, fingers curling to the back of his neck. Chris waits and waits to be pulled into a kiss. Instead, there is a rasp of stubble against his cheek and a shudder of breath to his ear. Yet, it's the delicate touch that cajoles the smallest whimper from Chris, fingertips tracing down the shell of the ear from the red tip and continuing to his jaw. And then, the whisper, the intimate secret shared among lovers, that makes Chris shiver into the night.

"I want it too. Everything with you."

Chris almost sways towards the enticing warmth of the man in front of him. With the shuffle of feet, not his own, he suddenly he feels cold. Chris' eyes slowly flutter open only to see Darren walking away. He wants to reach out, but doesn't. Chris lets him go, trusting that Darren will come back. Soon enough, because both of them are done running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the final chapter published, I can't quite believe that this is over. It has been a crazy ride writing this story, since I have never written anything this long or elaborate. I only hope that I have managed to bring this story to a worthy finish for my own sake, for your sake. I am thrilled to see that some of you stuck with me throughout the process, cheering me on. Thank you for that! I couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> Whether this will be The End or To be continued (in another verse) remains to be seen. There are things planned (and because of it certain things could not happen in this chapter), but only time will tell what I will write and when. Until then, I'm eager to hear your comments.

**Author's Note:**

> [Master Post on Tumblr](http://hopelesslydevotedshipping.tumblr.com/hopelessfics)


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